Throw Out the Script
by Eidolon02
Summary: Destiny says they go one way. They say they go another. Merlin/Morgana, 2x03 Divergence AU.
1. In the Firelight

Once upon a time, there was a great kingdom. Full of rolling hills and magical forests, (but don't tell the king that) its crown jewel was the immense city of Camelot. And in the court of Camelot, of the entirety of the noblewoman revered for their grace and poise, none were as renowned as the de facto princess, the Lady Morgana.

Which is why anyone would be shocked to see her hurtling down the corridors in near hysterics wearing only her nightgown. She ran as if the devil himself was chasing her, away from her expensively decorated room were lay the shards of a vase shattered but never touched.

"Almost there," the Lady muttered to herself frantically as she approached a door, "Gaius will know how to fix this…"

But when she burst into the room, the physician in question was absent. Instead, a poorly dressed, poorly groomed boy was in attendance, snuffing out the candles for the night. In contrast to the Lady Morgana, this boy was almost non-existent in the hearts and minds of the people. He was a familiar face, a walking accessory for their beloved prince. None would suspect that they owed their very lives to him, each and every one, many times over.

Morgana was about to find out.

"Is Gaius here?" She walked briskly up to him, noticing with some dread his apprehension.

"Uh, no, he's not here at the moment; should be back soon though." The boy called Merlin replied; formal, as always.

"I need to speak to him, where is he?"

"He's gone to see the king." Merlin stopped short, and gave her a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

Somewhere in her fear addled brain, she noted how odd it was how little she knew him. He had arrived in their lives over a year ago, saving Arthur and Gwen and that little Druid boy she still dreamed about and even his mother and entire village. She had defied the mad king with him, gone to battle with him, but no matter how good she thought he was it wasn't enough to get her to tell him about _this._

"You can trust me Morgana, you know you can."

And just like that, her current train of thought came to a halt. She knew she had to tell somebody, she was going to explode if she kept this locked up anymore. Swallowing, she steeled herself.

"I'm scared, Merlin. I don't understand anything anymore. I need to know what's happening. Please." It was a challenge, a plea. _Just say what we're both thinking._

But Merlin seemed to deflate before her. "Gaius will be back soon, he'll be able to help you." He deflected, fidgeting slightly.

"He won't, I don't want any more remedies; they won't do any good!" It all came out in a tumble as Morgana moved closer, invading his personal space and stopping only when he pulled back. She swallowed again at his subtle reminder of their difference in station, and how strange she must look.

"It's magic."

She could see him freeze up, he was afraid_._ "…What?"

"I'm your friend; you know I wouldn't make this up!" _Please believe me, please listen._

"O-of course."

"Then you believe me? You think its magic, too?"

There was a beat. He was still holding back from her, and she was terrified she had gone too far, incriminated herself and would end up on the chopping block.

"Please, Merlin, I just need to hear someone else say it so I don't have to keep feeling like I'm imagining it." Her final plea, the last ounce of bravery she could produce in her terror.

Merlin stared at her, wide eyed, and idly she felt something in the air shift. The stories go that this is the moment he rejects her, leaves her to spiral down while he swallows the guilt, the beginning of Camelot's end.

But as Morgana knows, Merlin has never been one to do what he's told.

And with a sigh, a weight came off his shoulders, and suddenly _he's_ moving into _her_ personal space. She stiffened at the motion, and again as his hands took her own; she's not used to contact from anyone but Gwen, but somehow this felt just as a soothing.

"…Merlin?" She almost whispers, now more confused than anything. He looked solemn suddenly, older and strangely regal, and she can't for the life of her figure out what he's about to say that could make him change like that. But he just gives one of his dumb smiles, sad and empathic, and says;

"Milady… I'm sorry, you're a sorceress."

Morgana feels herself go rigid, the events of the last few days crashing down on her. She thought it would help to hear it out loud, but it just made everything worse. Her distress must have shown (_Of course it did, I can't control myself at all tonight)_ because he squeezed her hands briefly before letting her sit down, preparing a glass of water she knocked back like ale. When she was done, he retook her hands and knelt carefully before her.

"I-I know you're scared." She finally makes eye contact again at that, glaring for all she worth, and he has the grace to look chastised. "Well, I mean, of course you are. I remember- I remember what it was like for me."

"Wait, what?" Morgana inwardly winced at her wits leaving her; clearly one of her least impressive statements, but at least she had an excuse. "How could- what do you mean, Merlin?"

The boy- no, the man, how could she not have noticed how _tired_ he looked- gave another sigh of resignation; and fear, as well. His eyes - blue like her best sapphires – pierced her; and it was _that_ look. The one he had given her the last time they had discussed magic, the one that said "I know you, and I accept you."

But instead of talking, he simply pointed at the unlit candle next to her. She looked at it confusedly; what was he-?

"_Forbearne."_

Morgana gave an undignified yelp as both the candle and his beautiful eyes _lit up_, and she was too scared to run because he had her hands in his grip and _oh my God, Merlin's a sorcerer._

"D-don't be afraid!" He said, and snuffed out said candle with a glance of his again burning eyes. Traitorous hands were now gripping her even tighter, and he gave a sad smile at her flinch. It was sad, but understanding. "I'm not here to hurt anybody, I swear. Hell, since I've got here all I've done is save people's lives."

"I-I-I-I- what," Her mind couldn't process it. Merlin, sweet bumbling Merlin, was magic? And magic, dark horrific magic, had saved lives? "…how?"

Merlin let out another breath at this, grateful she was listening, and his eyes were back to blue now, so why did she still find them so mesmerizing?

"Did you really think that chandelier just happened to fall on Mary Collins?" He said slyly, a bit of his strange humor bleeding through. She appreciated it, she had always appreciated it.

And suddenly over a year's worth of happenstance crystallized before her. Mary Colllins, Valiant's shield activating without his order, Gwen's father mysteriously cured, _Merlin announcing himself sorcerer to Uther Pendragon's face,_ everything about Sophia and her father, fighting so hard to save that boy with her, ("What if magic's not something you choose?") the eleventh hour whirlwind in Ealdor, the mysterious deaths of the other two assassins she had sent after Uther-

Oh God.

"Y-you know about Tauren, don't you?" She whispered in horror, suddenly his magic- because that's what he was- the least of her worries. Merlin nodded gravely, tracing comforting circles on her hands with his thumbs.

"It's alright, Morgana. I, um…" He trailed off momentarily. "I understand the impulse. That said I'm glad you didn't go through with it."

"Maybe I should have."

"You don't mean that."

Morgana looked down at him again, and realized he believed that fully. He believed she wasn't a killer, or a monster, or anything of the kind. He was just like her, and he had been using magic to protect them all since the moment he got here. Weight lifted off her shoulders, and she saw rather than felt Merlin feel the same.

"All my life, I've been told magic is evil." She said at last, her defenses crumbling before him. "That it corrupts your soul."

"Er…" Merlin tilted his head and gave her another of his smiles, because he seemed to have a million, this one conveying the gentle correction he was about to give. "Uther isn't exactly an unbiased source, milady."

"Ha!" Morgana found herself laughing, almost hysterically. "No, no he most certainly isn't,"

She looked down at him seriously, trying to make him understand. "But I- I've only ever known magic to hurt people. And I think; I think it shouldn't be this way, there has to be more, there has to be a good a-and kind use for it. But-!"

"Morgana." He coaxed softly when she abruptly stopped herself, and _oh, why not, he knows everything already._

"But I'm terrified. M-my magic, its only ever hurt me, and now it can hurt others. What if Gwen had been near that window when I blew it out?" She couldn't stand the thought of her best friend hurt because of her, and she's about to break down again when Merlin reached up to cup face, steadying her.

"Morgana, listen to me carefully." Merlin commanded, and since when has he ever _commanded,_ but she obeys anyway. (And since when has she ever obeyed?) He looks so different, and she can see the flecks of gold in his irises; subtle remnants of the power running through him.

"Since I've come to Camelot, I've seem magic do terrible things. Afancs, wraiths…" He trails off with a faraway look in her eyes. "Lightning, that can snuff life out like that candle beside you."

She shudders, whether from fear or… something else, she can't say. But she stays silent, not wanting to interrupt.

"But I've also _done_ wonderful things with it. I've saved lives; healed the sick, protected the people I love from forces they couldn't handle. And yes, sometimes… sometimes I've had to hurt others to save people, even- even kill them."

"I can't imagine you hurting anybody." She's smiling now, Morgana notices, and is proud to have drawn a smile from the suddenly melancholy Merlin as well.

"Still, I have." He continued. "My powers- _our_ powers, can be used for good or evil, Morgana, but that doesn't _make_ them good or evil. Even the most horrific spells in the world aren't evil, just… violent. And maybe it says something about the person who uses it, but the magic itself? It's like fire,"

He reaches for the candle next to her and lights it with that word again, and this time she is entranced rather than afraid.

"It can be used to burn you to death, or it can light the dark." Merlin flashed his sheepish smile. "Or, you know, it can be used for cheap tricks."

A complex string of words slip from his lips before he blows on the flame, and to her wonder a swarm of butterflies spring out of it. Fluttering from the wick and into the air, they light the entire room from all sides with their fiery bodies.

"Oh, _Merlin…"_ Morgana whispers, catching his small smile from the corner of her eye. Foolishly, she reaches out to touch the closest creature as it moves lazily past her shoulder, and retracts her burnt finger with another yelp. Merlin laughed heartily at her embarrassment, and took her hands again in his own.

"It's still fire, silly!" He giggles like a twelve year old, and inspects her fingers while running his own over it. Another chant and those eyes, (_Like the sunrise_), and the pain vanished.

"I- how," Morgana stared dumbfounded at her perfectly healed fingertips. Merlin aims her way another smile, this time victorious.

"See? Magic heals, too. But that doesn't make it _good_ magic-"

"Any more than hurtful magic is evil." She finishes for him, and he nods sagely.

"Now you're getting it." He continued, and his husky voice takes on an awed quality. "Magic- it isn't good _or_ evil, Morgana. It just is. It's been here long before us, and it will be here long after us. It's immense, and beautiful, and _terrifying;_ and most of all, Morgana, it's a gift. What you can do is a _gift._"

Distantly she felt tears making tracks down her face at the thought, the knowledge that she didn't have to break things, or burn them, that she could _heal_ as well as harm. Merlin was crying with her now, and they were smiling at each other, something between them clicking into place like it belonged. Breaking that vase seemed like years ago.

And it was then, kneeling before her like a suitor with her hands in his, amidst the firelight of a dozen flapping butterflies, that Gaius walked in.

* * *

**So Merlin exposes his secret to Uther's face to save Gwen after knowing her for like a month, and exposes himself to Freya, a perfect stranger, to save her. Throughout the entire show, Merlin's modus operandi is to take stupid risks with his life and his magic to help people, especially damsels in distress. Except in this one episode, where he suddenly puts himself above someone in desperate need of assistance. Yeah, no.**

**Umm, first fic. Suggestions, criticisms?  
**


	2. Alone No Longer

For someone who had the most boring life imaginable up until he left his village, Merlin would say he had adjusted well to the never ending lunacy his life had become. From the moment he had stepped into Camelot, it was evil plot this, unstoppable beast that, and very little rest in-between. So Merlin could safely say that he was resigned to his status as a madness magnet, to the point where he even had a top ten list of the strangest moments in his life. This was why he could also safely say that tonight had just made number one, full stop.

In the last hour, the unflappable lady of Camelot had come bursting through his door in tears, a vulnerability to her he hadn't imagined existed, and announced that she was magical. And then he had done the same.

Let's reiterate that. Merlin, a warlock-in-training serving the son of the man who would chop him up like rat stew, had just revealed himself to Morgana, volatile sorceress/seer and arguably the one person said man was closest too. Also, Gaius had just walked in while they were in the middle of a very touching moment involving tears and magic and _holding hands, oh Gods he was holding the Lady Morgana's hands-_

Merlin felt himself gulp as his eyes darted between Gaius, (the eyebrow of discontent reaching skyward off his face) Morgana, (the brow crinkle of fear/fury/adorableness in full effect) and their still interlocked hands. When his masterfully subtle efforts at freeing his hands failed, (read: a hard wrench that just made Morgana glare and hold tighter) he conceded defeat and gave his father figure a shrug.

"I swear, this isn't what it looks like."

"I certainly hope not, because it looks like you just revealed yourself as a warlock to the king's ward."

"Actually, I was going to say that it looks like I'm proposing to her, but I can see how you-"

"_Merlin!"_

Gaius slammed the still open door closed behind him, and Merlin felt both himself and Morgana jump at the anger on the gentle old man's face. In fact, they had both jumped to their feet with both hands still grasped like lovers and _stop that right now, Merlin._

Gaius strode forward furiously. "I cannot believe you! Anyone could have walked in on-on… this little _display,_ including Arthur! The door wasn't even fully closed!"

Morgana flushed. "Ah, that's actually my fault- wait, I'm angry with you!" She suddenly interrupted herself, and Merlin wondered where this return to the unreachable lady had come from, and where his new found confidence had gone. Another subtle (wrenching) attempt to let go of her was met with even less success. "You knew all this time, didn't you? About my magic? About his? How could you-"

Gaius had (thankfully) sobered in the face of Morgana's anger, which he could understand because she was doing that little head tilt thing that was kind of scary but also kind of alluring, and he really needed to stop admiring her and pay attention. The man in question looked suddenly far older in the flapping firelight than he ever had as he stared at her. Merlin understood then that these two had known each other far longer than he had known either of them.

"My child-"

"_I am not a child-"_

"My lady," He conceded. "I have only ever tried to look after you-"

Morgana was having nothing of it. "I asked you for help, and you just shushed me and gave me more drugs! It had to take Merlin to step up and let me know what was happening!" She snapped harshly, not noticing Merlin's wince at her tone. He could see where she was coming from, but thought she was being a little hard on the man who had been like an uncle to both of them. Also, she was still clinging to his hands for dear life, and it was kind of starting to hurt now.

"And I wish he hadn't of done that!" Gaius shot back after a brief flinch. A butterfly flapped a little too close to his hair and he swatted agitatedly. "Merlin, for God's sake would you put these things out?"

"Oh, right sorry-" Merlin drew in a breath to pull back the magic he had given to the fire, only for Morgana to slap one of her now free hands over his mouth. He stared wide eyed into her commanding gaze.

"No Merlin, they're lovely. I want you to keep them." She said sincerely, if forcefully, and he felt a warm feeling suffuse inside of him at the knowledge that she knew he was magic, and she _liked_ it. A quick glance at Gaius showed him dividing his attention between glowering at their sudden closeness and battling with the stray fire bug.

He nodded slowly at Morgana, and her eyes softened as she released him and turned back to Gaius. (She was still holding one of his hands though, but Merlin now found it difficult to mind.)

"He doesn't have to hide who he is." She proclaimed regally. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"No, but it could get him executed." Gaius replied, and Morgana deflated a little at that. The old man continued more softly. "I have only ever tried to keep the two of you safe… even from each other."

Merlin put a comforting hand over their clasped ones, trying to recapture that strange intimacy that had flourished so easily moments ago. He wanted more than anything to ease her woes as he hopefully had just before, to prevent two people he cared about from clashing. He felt himself light up when she gave a shaky nod at his unspoken plea, looking very tired again all of a sudden. Her eyes were still red from crying, and he assumed his were as well.

"Milady," he began, and he felt a strange twang in his chest at the way she held his gaze with rapt attention, as if he was the most important person in the room. As if he _mattered._

"It's been a big night for the both of us; maybe we should head to bed." He implored, mindful of Gaius watching them; it must be strange to see him speak so familiarly with someone he honestly didn't know as well as he should. Well, until tonight.

"N-no, I'm perfectly fine, Merlin," Morgana had to stifle a yawn mid-sentence, and gave a panicked look between him and Gaius. It was with a rush of affection that he realized she didn't want to leave him alone to be punished for coming to her aid.

"All the same, I'm quite tired myself, so maybe you should consider it?" He prompted, and she looked surprised and grateful that he was both reassuring her and giving her an out without revealing either her fatigue or her concern for him. Merlin had spent enough time with Arthur to know how nobles viewed both as signs of weakness.

And yet, Morgana proved as unpredictable as ever, by turning to Gaius and announcing briskly;

"I'm very concerned for Merlin." His jaw dropped. "I don't want you to yell at him just because he wanted to help, or-or make him go out picking herbs in the middle of the night, or whatever you do as punishment."

"Yeah, he never makes me do that…" Merlin said wryly, and was pleased when she stifled a snort.

"I am glad to hear that." Gaius replied stiffly, moving between butterflies to reach the cabinet where he stored Morgana's dreaded sleeping draft. He handed it to her solemnly. "You will keep my boy's secret, then?"

Morgana was almost as surprised as he was by the overt acknowledgement, and Merlin was touched once again by his great uncles fatherly feelings, as smothering as they sometimes were.

"Of course I will!" She exclaimed, as if she couldn't believe anyone could think differently, and that touched him even more. Morgana held the bottle to her chest and eyed Gaius coolly. "And thank you, for keeping my…my gift a secret from Uther all these years. But we are not done with this conversation."

Gaius looked briefly sad at that. "No, I suppose not."

Morgana met Merlin's gaze then, softening noticeably. She looked down briefly at their hands, and very reluctantly let go. Merlin nearly stumbled with the loss of contact, and she seemed to share the feeling.

"Thank you, Merlin." She said formally, as if he had just saved her life. Maybe he had. Merlin just swallowed and nodded, not sure how to feel about the night's tumultuous turn. He tried very hard not to watch her as she swept from the room, smiling warmly at his creations as they followed her as far as the door, but couldn't prevent a last glance at her back. As the door closed behind her, she met his eyes with her own longing gaze. And then she was gone.

Wait, _longing?_

"Merlin," Gaius said in a strangled voice, and he gulped as he turned around and faced the music, so to speak. The physician was eyeing the one errant butterfly that had been bothering him as it finally left him alone. "These creatures- they almost look like products of the Forge of Lorensia, albeit with less flaming golems and more… insects."

Merlin felt himself cheer up a little at the change of subject; he loved talking magic, Gaius didn't do nearly enough of it. "Oh yeah, there was a bit on it in the margins of my spell book-"

"You mean the three sentence mention of what it does and if you find it to never, ever go near it if you value your life?" Gaius said crossly.

"Yeah, that's the one." Merlin affirmed with a smile, which made Gaius roll his eyes for some reason. "For the last few months I've been working on reproducing the Forge's effects in my spare time, on a smaller scale, of course."

The brow returned in full force. "You reverse engineered a massively dangerous magical weapon lost to the ages, from three sentences, and reworked the basic charm to function as a _party favor?_"

Okay, _now_ Merlin was offended. "Well, don't put it like _that._ I thought they'd be pretty." He snuffed out the flames with a wave of his arms, finally feeling the drain of sustaining so many at once. "And it's a much better use for that magic than forging blazing monsters to smite the innocent, thank you very much."

There was a moment where he crossed his arms in a huff and Gaius just smiled at him, half in amazement and half in exasperation. Neither of them wanted to restart the conversation they need to finish. Merlin felt his head drop, and looked back up at his guardian with eyes wet from emotion.

"Do you at least understand _why_ I did it?" He pleaded exhaustedly. Gaius remained blank faced as he moved closer, and then pulled him into bear hug. Merlin returned it eagerly, but knew his confusion showed on his face as he pulled away. "I thought you'd be angry with me?"

"I was, at first." He replied, just as tiredly. "But then she admitted to being scared for you, and I was just glad you were safe; _both_ of you."

Merlin felt himself nod, the events of the night finally catching up with. Gods, he had told someone, _he had someone just like him now._ It occurred to him that it might not be quite so easy to smooth things over with Gaius and Morgana, and the same thought was clearly running through his wizened old mind as well.

"You were just trying to do the right thing." He assured his old friend.

"So were you." Gaius said with the beginnings of a smile, hints of what could have been pride in his eyes. "We have more to discuss, but for now you must get some rest."

Merlin felt a huge yawn tear threw him. He said his goodnights and plopped into bed without even changing into his night shirt, thoughts of the Lady Morgana filling his head.

For the last year he had felt a strange gulf between them, keeping them from becoming as close as he was to Arthur and Gwen no matter what they went through together. He had finally bridged that gap tonight, and it felt incredible to sooth someone else of the fears that had plagued him throughout his life.

Merlin turned onto his back and stared into the dark morosely. Gaius had been impressed, even amused at his lightshow, but Merlin hadn't missed the undercurrent of apprehension. Gaius was wary of his power. That was alright; Merlin was wary of himself to. Ever since he had killed Nimueh, since he had struck her down like an angry god, he hadn't been quite the same. No matter what she or Gaius or the damn lying dragon had told him, he had never believed himself to be truly powerful until the day he had summoned those storm clouds and…

The thought cut itself off before he could finish it.

_But Morgana wasn't afraid._ A cheeky voice somewhere inside him whispered, and Merlin's heart ached at how much it sounded like Will. _Once she understood you weren't evil, she liked it. She _loved_ it._

Merlin felt the biggest smile he'd ever smiled cross his face.

_She loved it._

The young warlock drifted to sleep, thinking of crystalline eyes and dark tresses and which spells to show her first. His exhaustion, borne from a lifetime of solitude, began to drift away.

Everything would be better tomorrow.

* * *

**Spoiler: it won't be.**

**So, Christ, I am bowled over by the response to my dinky little story. 13 reviews isn't exactly dam breaking, but it's a hell of a lot more than I ever expected, especially in so short I time. Hence the super fast update in return. In hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Again, thank you all so much.**

**Next time: Uther goes to drastic measures to find Morgana's "attacker", Morgana goes to even more drastic measures to stop him, and Merlin goes to even _more_ drastic measures to save her_._ Featuring the early appearance of the best part of season 3. (No, it's not Gwaine.)  
**


	3. Justify the Means

"My Lord, you cannot do this!"

The words were out of Morgana's mouth before she even thought twice about it, and it occurred to her that she needed to work on her composure. First she had blurted out every dark secret in her life to Merlin and spent the night _groping_ his hands like she had some kind of fetish, and now she had yet again shouted at Uther bloody Pendragon.

The man in question turned slowly from dictating to an uncomfortable Arthur the "interrogations" of all those suspected of attacking her room. Thankfully, he was merely befuddled and not striding forward to throttle her.

"_What_ are you talking about, child?" The king glowered at her, and he was still terrifying even when he wasn't mad with rage. Morgana couldn't remember why she had ever thought herself safe with him. She shared a helpless look with an equally confused Gwen behind her, before slipping back into her old role as the tyrant's beleaguered conscience.

"I- even if one of these people set the fire or knows who did, you cannot go around torturing over a dozen of _your own people_ so that one of them _might_ confess." She could see him beginning to fume, and quickly tried to allay his temper in a more simpering tone. "There have been no other instances, My Lord. Perhaps the coward has just… given up?"

She waited carefully as Uther just stared her down, feeling Gwen fidget in the back and Arthur looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. For a second she thought he was going to strike her, before he let out a breath and looked at her softly.

"My child, I know how much you must want this to all be over." He said magnanimously, and that pompous, arrogant war hawk, how _dare_ he presume she cared more about her own fears than the peasants about to be put on the rack?

"_However,_" he continued severely as she opened her mouth to say just that. "I cannot and will not allow this to stand. Magic has struck at my ward, and I will raze the whole world to the ground until I find the villain."

Morgana shared another glance with Gwen, mouth agape. She was long past the stage where she would have taken gestures of violence as gestures of love, and the calm way the king had said it spoke to the dissonance at the heart of him.

Again, she found herself wishing she had allowed Tauren to free them all from Uther Pendragon's plague. And this time Merlin wasn't here to reassure her of her dark thoughts.

As if she had called him, her fellow sorcerer came strolling into the throne room on Gaius's heels. _God, Merlin a sorcerer, it feels strange even thinking about it._ The unassuming man seemed to blend into the background in spite of his noticeably unfortunate fashion decisions. He caught her eye as he sidled up to Gwen, and she instantly revised all her previous assumptions of him, _again._

_How have I never noticed those eyes before?_ It was a lie, of course, she had truly noticed them while they talked in hushed voices over the Druid boy's bedside, but this was the first time she acknowledged what she saw in them. They radiated power, warmth, and a great well of protectiveness that was currently directed at her alone.

The weight of it made her shiver.

"Ah, Gaius, what news do you have for me?" The king said, and Morgana sent a questioning glance towards Merlin, who shot a reassuring one back. Was it normal for two people to communicate without words like this? If she could actually hear his voice in her head she would think it might be magic.

"My inspections of the homes of the suspects have turned up no evidence of sorcery, my lord. Whoever was responsible, they have covered their tracks well." Morgana felt a surge of warmth towards the old man for the first time since everything had come out last night; she had gone to bed angry and hurt and carried that with her throughout the day. It took seeing him covering for her to remind Morgana that his intentions, at least, were good.

Uther did not find the news pleasing, however. He steeled himself and snapped his head towards Arthur, who almost took a step back at the look on his father's face. "Prepare the pyre."

"F-father…" Arthur had been more than a little subdued since he had rounded up the suspects, but even her idiot foster brother didn't believe in burning those people alive just to kill the one among them who might have done it.

"I am king, Arthur." Uther reminded him darkly. Arthur looked about to drop the subject until his eye caught _Gwen's_, of all people, and suddenly he was drawing himself up to his full height.

"And I am prince, Father." Uther's jaw dropped, along with everyone else's. "And I cannot in good conscience aid you in hasty execution of our citizens under the banner of fighting magic. Not when we are standing in the same room with the daughter of one of the wrongfully dead."

Morgana stared. Everyone in the room stared, really, but Morgana especially. When had _this_ happened? Merlin looked proud enough to break into applause, and Gwen was shocked at suddenly being the center of the king's attention. He was looking at her with the same filtered sorrow he had shown at her father's grave; it seemed centuries ago when he had expressed remorse for Tom the blacksmith's needless death.

And then his face hardened and he turned his fiery gaze back to his son.

"Then I shall gather the firewood _myself._"

###

"Merlin, wait!"

The warlock turned on the spot in the corridor alongside Gaius, to see Morgana hurtling towards them; Gwen and Arthur had presumably gone off to pretend not to be infatuated with each other, an infatuation that had probably just grown. What was she _doing,_ was she trying to draw attention to what had happened between them last night? His agitation must have shown on his face because she was looking somewhat coolly at him as she finally caught up to them.

"What are we going to do?" She demanded. Merlin shared a look with Gaius; he wished he knew where the approachable woman from last night had gone. Come to think of it, he wished he knew where the confident sorcerer-in-training had gone too.

"My lady, I'm afraid there's nothing much to do." Gaius said gently, and he was impressed with his mentor when he didn't flinch at the ladies accusatory stare. She turned back to Merlin imploringly, eyes wide and soft, and Merlin wished he understood how she could switch between noblewoman and scared girl like that.

"Please, you have to do something." She whispered, as if Gaius wasn't even standing right there, as if there wasn't an entire group of noblemen looking curiously at the scene as they passed. Merlin only noticed these things in the peripheral, because her eyes seemed to have drawn him in, and had they always been this green? Now, wait, pay attention Merlin.

"I- milady, I don't know. I just don't know." Merlin replied as best he could, and had to struggle not to wince as her face fell.

"But, with your magic-"

"_Morgana!"_ Gaius whispered harshly, darting his eyes this way and that to make sure nobody had heard. Taking them both by the arm, he dragged them into the nearest guest chambers with surprising strength. She shrugged her arm out of his grip as he closed the door, and shot Merlin an apologetic look, but he could see the desperation still in her gaze.

"What did you promise me last night?" Gaius asked harshly. Morgana crossed her arms and tossed her hair haughtily.

"I only remember promising Merlin anything."

"What? When was this?"

"Er, well, it was a bit of an unspoken…thing." Merlin finished lamely, scratching the back of his head. He was a bit embarrassed but also excited that Morgana had acknowledged the quiet understanding they had given each other last night, the clear desire to support and protect each other from their loneliness. But somehow in the light of day and with Gaius between them again, things seemed more… awkward.

Morgana shot him an inscrutable look, and Gaius just rolled his eyes.

"You said you would keep his secret like we keep yours, not go blurting it out in the middle of a crowded corridor!"

Merlin admired the way Morgana managed to look both chastened and offended simultaneously and why did he spend most of her and Gaius's conversations admiring her flawless appearance? His mother would be ashamed of him. Well, amused, but mostly ashamed.

"It wasn't _crowded!_"

"You were lucky it wasn't!"

"I would never _blurt out_ Merlin's-"

"You have to show more restraint!"

"Oh, that's your answer for everything, isn't it!"

"Children these days, always thinking they can do whatever they want, no reprecu-"

"QUIET, BOTH OF YOU!"

Morgana and Gaius both broke their heated argument to stare at him in surprise, and Merlin felt himself flush at the way she was eyeing him. He didn't usually lose his temper like that, and he wished she didn't look so impressed. It made him want to go yell at more people in front of her.

"Gaius, would you mind giving us some time alone, please?" He asked with even more politeness than usual in an attempt to ward off future leech tank cleaning. (He was still working on a way to "accidently" transport the damn thing to places unknown.) Somehow Merlin knew he could talk to Morgana the way he wanted to if he was free to do so without prying eyes, though clearly she could care less who saw them together.

Morgana shot him a grateful look and then gave Gaius a triumphant one at having seemingly gotten Merlin's support over him. Gaius sighed, looking rather sad all of a sudden, and Merlin wondered if either of them had ever fought like that before. The gulf between them had only grown.

"Very well, I do have patients to care for."

(Merlin knew for a fact that he didn't.)

He ambled out the door, leaving them alone at last. There was a moment where they eyed each other up, when the air seemed to shift between them and it felt like they were surrounded by Lorensian butterflies again. He wanted nothing more than to take her hands once more.

Before he knew it he was crossing the room and sliding his fingertips over her palms.

###

Morgana took in a shaky breath at his movement and tried not to notice Merlin's eyes trailing over her rising and falling chest, but his gaze was like silk on her skin and was hard to dismiss. Her own eyes were drawn to the small expanse of neck left uncovered, (she had never hated that scarf more) up past the contours of his lips, landing on enthralling blue orbs steadily darkening. How had she never noticed how _beautiful_ he was?

She was close enough to taste his breath.

At that thought they broke apart hastily, fingers trailing over each other as they parted as if their very hands were fighting the motion. Merlin fidgeted awkwardly with his scarf as he put as much distance between them as possible without making it look like he was trying to get away from her. Morgana ran a hand through her hair self-consciously and gave an embarrassed smile which he returned.

She needed to nip whatever this was in the bud before it got too far. Last night she hadn't wanted to leave him, to even let go his warm hands and the steady pulse she could feel resonating through them and into her. The desire to just stay in the physician's chambers all night with him and his beautifully shaped fire was overwhelming. To stay up late and learn how to use her gift – because that's what it was – to heal the sick and protect the people she loved and make living artwork from a candlestick. Her last thought before the sleeping draft took effect had been of his smile lit by the fire.

And just now she had almost given Merlin her first kiss.

This was wrong, no matter how she looked at it. Yesterday she wouldn't have even conceived of this. Merlin had come along and solved her most long-standing problem - her terror of her own magic – as if it was nothing, and his unspoken promise to protect and support her meant more than she could ever express. It was natural then that she was growing attached, (_strongly_ attached) but she couldn't break their fragile new bond by giving in to ephemeral feelings. Gaius was right, as much as she hated to admit it; her lack of restraint towards him could send them both to the pyre.

###

"How are we going to stop the execution?"

Merlin finally met her eyes at this, the uncomfortable silence finally broken, and it seemed they were mercifully getting back to business. Merlin had no words to describe what the hell had just happened, only to say that now he _really_ had to stop admiring her form.

"Oh, yeah, that." He said weakly; for once glad to be dealing with the crisis of the day. Morgana cocked an eyebrow.

"_That?_ Merlin, he's going to slaughter all of them, because of _me._ I need to know what your plan is, so I can help."

"…Plan?" Merlin hadn't even begun thinking about a plan; Uther's order had only just been announced. And it wasn't exactly feasible to rescue 15+ people from heavily guarded dungeons when he couldn't bring forward the actual fire starter. "Morgana, I'm honestly not sure there's anything I can do."

The lady's eye twitched at that and she looked ready for battle. She had never looked more beau-_ by the Gods, Merlin, serious business here!_

"Merlin, you've defeated how many cackling lunatics?" The way she said it, like he could do anything, made him tingle all over. But it also sort of worried him. "Besides, you've already proven with the Druid boy that you can save Uther's victims without exposing yourself."

"And I couldn't save his father, could I?" Merlin cut in, inwardly wincing at his tone. He hadn't meant to sound that harsh, but he had to make her _understand_. "I had to stand there with you and his son and watch him die, didn't I?"

Morgana's face fell only briefly before she shook her head, as if ridding herself of the thought. "No, things are different this time. You have me,"

Irrationally, Merlin felt his heart skip a beat at her choice of words.

"We can get them out of there, I know we can."

"And take them _where?_ They can't exactly go home."

"We'll send them to the Druids, of course. They'll take them in, or find them a safe place."

"Morgana, do you think I didn't look for them after we saved that boy? The first magic users I've heard of who _aren't_ bloodthirsty animals, do you think I didn't want to meet them? _Learn_ from them?" He was vaguely aware that he was gesticulating widely in his anger, trying to get her to see sense while she just stood there with arms crossed defiantly. "If they were around here they've clearly moved, finding them could takes _weeks_, and that's even if we can smuggle every single prisoner out of here!"

Morgana cast her eyes downwards. It wasn't a concession, but it was certainly a start. Merlin started to move towards her before thinking better of it, another whatever-that-was between them was the last thing they needed right now. He lowered his voice to an imploring whisper.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but I can't just snap my fingers and make everything better."

Her eyes zeroed in on him sharply at that, and he almost lost his footing. Chin raised, eyes glazed, it was the exact expression she had given Tauren.

"Yes, you can." She spat. "You can kill Uther."

###

**Longest chapter in the woooorld.**

**Seriously, y'all don't even know. There was more, but I had to cut it because it was getting so long. Also, that last line is just too good a place to end it.**

**Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, I may have tried to do too much and overreached. Not only is this a bit of an experiment for me since it's the first chapter involving multiple scenes and POV shifts, I also tried to introduce Arthur, Gwen, and Uther (all of whom I've never written before) all at the same time and in one scene. This is also the first chapter where the M/M fluff falls away and shit gets real. _Also,_ the characters won't stop hijacking the story; Arthur's all like "no, let me stand up for Guinevere's father and prove my love and character growth!", and Gaius is all like "hang on a minute, I want to scold some young people" and Mergana's all _over_ each other and it's all very distracting. I'm supposed to be the author, right? I just want to get out of 2x03 and get to the magic lessons, guys! :( **

**Anyway, I wanna know what everybody thinks, if I handled those three well, if it all still flows, if Mergana aren't too hot for each other. (It's a magic thing.)  
**

**So, next chapter? Dunno when it's gonna be. It's mostly written already since most of it is cut from this one, but I'm also going to be going to the dentists to have drills driven into my jaw for 4 hours. So I'm not sure how that will effect my writing ability. I may be able to get number 4 up before I even set out to wage war on tooth decay, but no guarantees.**

**Coming Soon: Mergana takes those drastic measures I was talking about, and Eidolon is too novocained to talk. Fun times!  
**


	4. How We Get By

Merlin slowly backed up, before hitting the backs of his knees on the edge of the guest chamber bed and plopping down on it. Morgana was having trouble understanding his reaction; he looked like she had just sucker punched him.

"Well?" She began, more carefully this time. "Can you, or can't you?"

Merlin remained silent, staring at the floor.

"…Merlin? You could, couldn't you?" Still he said nothing. "You of all people could get away with this. Make it look like an accident, no one would suspect you. This would all be over." She was aware she was pleading, and it didn't sting her pride like it normally would.

"No." Merlin said, hoarsely but firmly. "I'm not a killer."

"Yes, you are." She reminded him briskly, because he was _wasting time._ "You said so last night."

Merlin winced and looked at his hands, clasped in his lap to stop them from shaking.

"…Low blow." He said under his breath.

Morgana felt a rush of guilt at the look on his downturned face, and had to stop herself from running over to him. _No more touching, Morgana, just solve the problem._

"I'm sorry, Merlin," She said as gently as she could. "But how many lives have you taken to protect the people you care about?"

Merlin shrugged non-committedly, looking almost childlike. She resisted the urge to go over and run her fingers through his hair like her mother used to do for her. The lady swallowed her emotions and continued the attack, like she had on Arthur and Uther many times before.

"So it's only those you love who you'll kill to save?"

Merlin's head shot up at that, intense shock quickly melting into fierce anger. He shot to his feet and she faltered, even more aware than when he shouted earlier at how attractive he looked when he was cross.

"I have killed more people than anyone should ever have to." He growled darkly, advancing slowly on her, and despite the slight tingle of fear she didn't want to back away from him. "And I remember each and every face. But not once, not ever, have I _chosen_ to take a life."

Morgana swallowed briefly and regained her indignation, advancing on him now. _"Why not?_ How many people does he have to kill before you step up and _end this?"_

He laughed harshly. "Oh, you think it's that simple? Uther Pendragon mysteriously dies and everything's all bright and shiny forever and ever?"

"_Of course I do_!" She heard herself shriek in his face. She was coming apart again, she could feel it, but the last 24 hours had been the most stressful of her life and she couldn't control herself if she wanted to. "T-that _thing_ has killed countless people, countless _families,_ countless _CHILDREN!_"

"You think I don't know that? You think I don't wake up _every day of my _life and wish that his madness would just _end_?"

"THEN JUST END IT!"

Silence reigned.

They were even closer than ever before, mere inches between them, proximity unnoticed in the intensity of their fight. Shining amber eyes filled her vision, and a glow on his face made her think hers were alight as well. Morgana could feel their entire bodies bending towards each other, like two ends of a rubber band snapping together.

"Please, Merlin." She whispered in a small voice, her eyes softening and lips quivering. It was partly genuine, partly manipulation, the same tactic that had gotten her way with powerful men like Uther and Arthur before.

Merlin just continued to stare his otherworldly stare. (Was hers as terrifying as his?)

"I've lived my ten years in this castle unable to acknowledge my dreams- _myself-_ for fear of… of living in fear of him. I wanted to be happy so badly I was living in denial about my magic, but I _can't do it _anymore, don't you see?"

Merlin nodded slowly, but still distantly. She pressed the advantage, hoping desperately for a concession.

"And now- and now he's going to kill over a dozen people- burn them alive in front of a crowd like _entertainment-_ and it's all because of me." Morgana hung her head as tears came, her crown resting against his collar bone. "…Because I was too weak to control my own magic."

Long fingers ran gently over her shoulders, making her shudder with… something. He wrapped himself around her gradually, as if afraid to scare her off, and she fought to keep herself from breaking down, from shredding the very last of her dignity before this man who she should barely know.

"You are _not_ weak, Morgana." He whispered in her ear. "None of us know how to control this gift when we first use it, I promise. None of us do it alone, okay?"

She nodded childishly against his chest; her fingers tightening around his scratchy shirt reflexively. She could feel a warmth building in her; oh, she needed to hear that so badly.

"You don't have to be afraid to be yourself anymore."

The kind words suddenly froze the warmth in her heart, reminded who she was, _where_ she was. She was an out of control sorceress- _God, a real sorceress-_ in the arms of a wonderful, naïve sorcerer, in the heart of the butcher king's castle. She, he, those rotting in the dungeons; they were all under his sword. Because of her.

"I do as long as he's alive."

She felt him freeze inside as she had, and she could actually _feel_ what he felt, what was happening to her? He slowly pulled away, still closer than close, eyes back to a tender blue but looking at her with worry and fear. She stared up at him pleadingly, dropping her guards for him yet again and letting a lifetime of subconscious terror and self-loathing emanate. _Can you feel me like I feel you?_

"Please, Merlin. Just him. _Please."_

For the first time she could _feel_ her fledgling magic, covering her like a warm blanket. It reached for his blazing aura and connected; light and power flowing into her. It was an astonishing feeling and more than a little addictive if she was being honest.

She wasn't sure he even noticed in his outrage.

"Don't ask me to murder for you, Morgana. I won't."

And that was that.

They each took a step back at once, slowly looking each other up and down as if taking the measure of the other. The unexplainable connection was faded but still present, tendrils of themselves reaching across the room against their will. Attempting to dismiss them, she schooled her features, wiped the tears off her face, and cleared her throat.

"Well then, if you won't do this- _for them_, not for me_-_ then I guess I'm on my own."

Merlin grimaced as she gave him her best glare and swept from the room, for once trying to keep hip swaying to a minimum.

"Morgana- what are you going to do? …Morgana!"

The Lady Morgana ignored the way her legs tried to move back towards his voice, ignored the magic pull between them that would not stop growing, and strode onwards. This was her fault, and it was time for her to stop crying and do something about it.

###

"Ah, _Mer_lin, there you are."

Merlin skidded to a halt in the corridor with an inward groan at the sound of Arthur's voice; he had been _trying_ to find Morgana after he had finally gotten over his shock and tried to follow her. The breakneck speed with which Morgana had shifted from pleading to demanding to homicidal to all three was more than a little unnerving, but the fact that they were now openly ogling each other was even more so. His very magic had always buzzed in her presence, but now it felt like it was bursting from the seams trying to pull hers into him, and vice versa. He would be lying if he said it wasn't intoxicating, if a little scary.

By the time Merlin had gotten his head together and ran after her, the lady in question was nowhere to be found. Wherever she had gone she had went there fast and Merlin found himself distinctly wishing his book had a page on scrying, it would make his life so much easier.

"And where are you off to in such a hurry?" Arthur said stand-offishly, sharing a glance with Gwen beside him to see if she noticed his obvious distress. Merlin wondered who they were fooling with the whole 'it-can-never-be' song and dance, or were they even trying anymore?

"I was just, um," Merlin snapped his mouth shut before he could mention Morgana and her likely attempt to kill the king (again). "I was looking for… you, Gwen!"

Gwen tilted her head, sharing another annoying couple-y look with the Prince. She had apparently merged with him into some adorable, aggravating Arwen monster. "Oh? What for, Merlin?"

Merlin turned over the contents of the day in his head in an attempt to find an answer, his stressed mind a bit scrambled. "I, just, um… wanted to check you were okay, after that fiasco in the throne room." He continued more sincerely. "Are you?"

Gwen smiled beautifully, if a bit sadly. "It was a little unnerving having Uther's full attention there for a moment, but I'm mostly just glad Arthur made sure he didn't forget my father's death." There was a moment where Arthur captured her gaze and seemed to communicate wordlessly with her, lifting the sorrow from her face, and Merlin had to turn away at that.

Partially because watching them do that felt a bit like walking in on them naked, but mostly because it reminded him that he and Morgana had been doing an awful lot of that themselves recently. It was dumb; it had only been _one day_, they shouldn't be able to eye-talk like Arthur and Gwen, they didn't even have a month-long not-relationship like they did!

_Yeah, but you do have a crazy magical connection and over a year's worth of built up attraction, at least on your end._ Whispered his inner Will voice. _Oh, hey, speaking of Morgana, she's about to get herself killed, maybe, probably. You should get on that._

"Well, that's good! Fantastic!" He deflected with a master's skill. (Arwen disagreed, judging by another look between them.) "Have either of you seen Morgana, by the way?"

"Oh, looking to deliver more flowers?" Arthur was giving him his best prat-face, and Gwen stifled a snort. It took Merlin a second to realize what he was talking about; the bouquet of lilacs he had given Gwen for Morgana yesterday, to cheer her up after the fire; before everything got so out of control. How could it have only been a day ago that she was a distant acquaintance, a beautiful creature to be admired but never truly known? A small part of him almost wanted to go back to when he didn't have these wild feelings tearing up his mind.

_Or maybe you've always had feelings for her, and all of this has just brought them to a boil?_ Internal Will needled annoyingly. _You spent over an hour yesterday picking the best flowers you could find- making sure the color matched her curtains- and putting every good luck and dreamless sleep charm you could find on them. You don't go that far for just anyone._

Merlin shoved aside disquieting thoughts about the one person he went the extra-_extra_ mile for, because he was already frustrated and getting more so the more he thought about her. He must have spaced out, because Arthur was waving his hand in front of his face.

"Hey, you better not be daydreaming about Morgana in there."

"Oh, Athur, lay off!" Gwen interjected playfully. "I've daydreamed plenty about you, there's nothing wrong with it."

Arthur looked flattered. "…Really?"

Gwen nodded shyly. "Yes."

"Well, I'm glad to see Arthur standing up for your father's memory has made you two decide to forget all the reasons you're not getting together!" Merlin heard himself snap sarcastically, and his two friends were looking shocked, but he had just reached Morgana overload and was unable to stop. "I mean, leaving aside the fact that she's a servant and Uther would eat you alive if you ruined the nobility's reputation of being aloof _dollop heads,_ you two have been in love for _how many weeks?_"

Arthur shifted angrily. "It's been one month and week, actually."

"And four days!" Gwen supplied helpfully.

"Thank you, Guinevere." Arthur said dreamily and, _oh come on!_

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Merlin lowered his initial shout to a harsh whisper as a concerned Sir Leon came to see what the noise was about, and immediately left again at the sight of the Prince and his manservant in _another_ lover's spat.

"Merlin, what wrong with you today?" Gwen asked, concerned and a bit offended.

"My problem is-is; how can you say you're in love? You barely know each other! Sure there's an attraction there, that's obvious, and if you dig deep you've got lots of stuff in common, but everything else about each other? …Total mystery!"

"Now, listen here, _Mer_lin-"

"And let's not get started on how she's not even _trying_ to hide it from anybody, not to mention how she thinks she can just-just… pout her lips at you and make you go against everything you believe in- _and she doesn't even have a plan!_"

Arthur was looking very confused now, and Gwen patted his arm comfortingly and waited for him to catch up to what Merlin was actually ranting about.

"'Oh, look at me, I'm nobility, I can do whatever I want!' Come on! How hard is it to for her to just _slow down_? And, I mean, it's not like we're _together_ or anything, what makes her think she can… jerk me around like this? I-it's not right, I tell you."

Merlin bent over trying to catch his breath, and also to avoiding Arwen's knowing look. Arthur opened his mouth to mock him, thought better of it, and changed the subject.

"…Dollop head?"

Merlin blinked. "What?"

"It's what you called the upper class, earlier in your rant." Gwen said, trying to hide a smile.

"Is that even a word?" Arthur asked her curiously, and she shook her head, curls flying.

"Well, I think it is now."

"It's _idiomatic_." Merlin shot at him, and turned to Gwen. "He needs to be more in touch with the people."

"Describe 'dollop head!'" The Prince demanded.

"…In a word?"

"…Yeah."

"…_Morgana."_

And he dashed off, back to the search.

"Oh, _that's_ who he was talking about!"

"Honestly, Arthur, you really do need to learn to pay attention."

###

"I did it. It was me."

Uther blinked at her balefully from his spot on the balcony, overseeing the massive pyre in the courtyard which would burn over a dozen innocent people at once.

"Come again, child?"

Morgana took a shuddering breath, pushing down her terror and looking him dead in the eye. In the end, this was the only option left to her. It was almost freeing, really.

"I'm a sorceress, and I lit the fire with magic. _Now let these people go._"

###

**I'll let that cliffhanger speak for itself. ^_^**


	5. Our Last Resort

"My Lord, you cannot do this!"

It was déjà vu all over again, as the Lady Morgana hurriedly followed the king down the corridors, trying to get him to stop ignoring her. She was still half in shock; the bravest moment in her entire life and he had _laughed._

"Morgana, this is rapidly becoming unamusing." The king replied, though he was still chortling, as he passed Sir Leon and ordered for the transfer of the prisoners to the pyre. Morgana grabbed Leon's shoulder as he reluctantly made to leave.

"No, delay that order, Leon." She barked harshly. Uther looked offended and Leon looked confused, but she had very little left to loose and no plans on stopping now. "Excuse me, my lord, but when one confesses to a crime is it not customary to execute _them_ and not _droves_ of innocents?"

Uther rolled his eyes in Leon's direction. "In case you're interested, the Lady Morgana's just confessed to being a sorceress, Sir Leon."

Leon's jaw dropped.

"It's _true,_ damn it." Morgana snarled at him, because how _dare_ the both of them, looking at her like a wayward child when she was at her most truthful. She was the Lady Morgana; when she spoke, people listened.

"My child, your compassion for those who do not deserve it has always been an endearing quality, but you have gone too far." Uther proclaimed, and _God_, why wouldn't he ever listen to reason when magic was involved? "…Sir Leon, the prisoners."

"_Stay right where you are."_ Morgana commanded as he began to move away, and the poor knight looked helplessly between them. "Why have I gone too far, Uther? …Because I speak the truth? I'm magic, I've had it my entire life, _that's what my dreams-"_

"ENOUGH!" Uther roared, and she felt Leon jump with her at the sheer gaping _madness_ in his gaze. "I will not tolerate my ward pretending to be an-an _abomination!_ These people are going to die, and we are going to be much better off, _and there's nothing you can do!_"

Morgana fought to stop tears from springing to her eyes; why did it hurt so much, seeing her genteel guardian at his vilest? At least it was a useful distraction from the maw of guilt opening in her, as her last gambit failed.

Uther leveled his terrible gaze on Leon, who cleared his throat and composed himself.

"…The prisoners. The pyre. _Kill them all."_

Leon gaze a shaky nod, shot her a regretful look, and walked down the corridor as fast as he could. Uther gave her his own nod, dark and promising, and stomped away cape flapping.

And she was alone.

###

It took Merlin longer than she had hoped to come to her.

Morgana had nearly sprinted back to the comfort of her own room, refusing to cry (_Yet again)_ in the open. The door was barely closed before she allowed herself to break down, sobbing into her hand harder than even when her parents had died. It seemed so strange, that a single bad dream, a single burst of magic, and more than fifteen people were about to be immolated.

_Why does everything I touch wither and die?_

She didn't know how long she had been there against the door when Merlin arrived. She felt more than heard him coming, a slight pull at the center of her chest towards the corridor staircase. The echo of a deep, deep protectiveness gradually radiated into her, along with rising concern at the panic he must have felt in her. Bright tendrils of Merlin, light and strong like chainmail, wrapped around her tentatively from behind the door, and before she knew it she had flung it open and thrown herself in his arms.

Merlin whispered nonsense over her racking sobs, carefully leading her back into her chambers. A slight pulse in his magic signaled the wordless command for the door to close and lock behind him, and even in her despair she was amazed at how effortless he made it all look. Merlin held her tightly against his chest, as if she would float away if he let go, and she in turn clung to him like a lifeline, desperate to leech some of the calm assuredness that burned hidden at the center of him.

There they stood for hours, maybe, the sun beginning to set behind them. The golden shade in the room brought her out of the quiet trance she had been in, exhausted from the days events, exalting in his comforting glow. Slowly the lady pulled away, wiping her eyes briskly as she turned towards the mirror to find herself a wreck.

"Oh, you must think me a brainless child." She laughed ruefully, dabbing ineffectually at her running mascara with a cloth. Behind her, Merlin just tilted his head quietly. "This is the third time I've bawled all over you in a twenty-four hour period."

"I don't mind." He said huskily, and wove his hands at her from across the room. She watched in the mirror as her ruined makeup rearranged itself and dried perfectly, and thought she would never get tired of watching his deft fingers bend the world to his will. "I don't imagine you've had a worse twenty-four hours."

Morgana shook her head and sighed. Running a hand through her hair, she marveled at how utterly powerless she was in the face of Uther Pendragon, and how the only person with any real power refused to use it.

"Well, at least now we know nothing short of catching you using magic will make Uther kill you."

Morgana turned to face him for the first time since their fight with a snort, standing there near the bed awkwardly, looking like he had been running for quite a bit. She smiled tightly at the thought, her earlier irritation returning with a vengeance and only compounded by what had happened since.

"Running all over the castle to stop me killing him, Merlin?" She bit out, regretting her tone as soon as the words left her lips, but she has always spoken before she thought. He was just so _infuriating._

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Yes, actually I was." He said defensively, before his angular face softened. "If I had known you were going to try to get yourself killed, I would have run even harder."

Morgana didn't know how to respond to that, her anger fading at his concern. He had just spent quite a while giving her solace again, had gone to great lengths to try to help her at risk to himself, and all she could do was lash out at him. She gulped down an apology- it was not something she was used to giving- but he seemed to relax as she thought it, and she shot him a glare.

"Did you just read my mind?"

"W-what? No!"

She glared harder than she'd ever glared before, and he relented.

"Okay, maybe a little bit."

"_Merlin!"_

"In my defense, it wasn't intentional!" He said desperately. "For some reason, today I keep sort of-of _feeling_ what you feel, sometimes, when there's a lot of tension in the air."

Morgana was about to shout at him to stay out of her head when she abruptly closed her mouth, feeling the honesty and hope for reconciliation burning in his gut as if it were her own.

"That's- that's very inconvenient, Merlin!" She exclaimed helplessly, because as much as she was growing to trust him she didn't want anyone to be able to see past her walls like that, and hadn't he broken through _enough_ of her defenses, couldn't she keep just this? (_Of course, I don't particularly mind feeling _his _emotions…)_

Merlin winced at that last thought, clearly feeling the odd note of… something… in it that surprised even her.

"Alright, um, I think maybe things are getting a little out of control." He said.

Morgana directed her exasperation towards him and felt his own reflected back at her.

"Okay, why don't we just take a deep breath, and try to calm down. Okay?"

Morgana closed her eyes and breathed in, trying with all her might to pull herself back together after her numerous collapses. She felt him doing the same, the pent up worry and annoyance with her pushed aside in favor of a metallic calm at his core that she could only dream of having. It wasn't too long before she felt their magic, flooding the room and intermingling, retreat and sink back into their skin.

She opened her eyes with a shaky breath and met Merlin's azure gaze across the room, grateful at having to see his concern in his eyes rather than feel it viscerally. She nodded carefully, unsure of how to bridge this new gap between them.

"Thank you, Merlin. You're getting to be as good as Gwen at calming me down." She said wryly, an olive branch that he seemed to accept cheerfully.

"Well, that's high praise then." Merlin replied warmly, and she thought at how strange it was that they both were so close to the maidservant but kept the most important part of themselves from her. What would she think if she knew what they could do, what she had begged him to do hours ago?

Merlin sobered at the look on her face, and she straightened. It seemed they were back to business.

"Why didn't you try to kill the king, milady?"

"What's the point?" She muttered bitterly. "Uther's just the head of a monster; hatred of magic runs deep in Camelot. If I kill him, there will be many others to take up his cause."

Merlin nodded, relieved at her answer. It simultaneously angered her and warmed her to think of how happy it made him that she agreed with him now.

"I'm glad you realized that." He said genuinely, eyes sparkling merrily, and she had to cut her eyes away from his to avoid getting lost in them. "I wish things were so simple, I do, but the reality is much more complicated."

Morgana nodded reluctantly; it was difficult for her, to admit to being wrong, but somehow not as hard on her pride as it would be to admit it to anyone else. Footsteps alerted her to Merlin moving closer.

"You know," He chuckled. "This kind of reminds me of that time I confessed to Uther for Gwen's sake."

The image of him bursting into the throne room and declaring himself a sorcerer was too much for her, and inexplicably she was laughing. "Oh Lord, I've gone and outdone you, haven't I?"

Merlin laughed heartily, and she thought it the most beautiful sound she had ever heard, held it close and took comfort from it. "Well, at least it didn't take Arthur convincing the king you were in love with all the prisoners to save you."

Morgana's laughter died off at the mention of them, probably being led to the pyre soon if the jeers of the crowd were anything to go by. She moved closer, staring up at him entreatingly.

"_Please…_ Is there anything we can do for them?"

A strange look passed over his face, and blue orbs lit up not with magic, but with an _idea._

"…Milady, if we can't expose the true sorcerer… why don't we _invent_ one?"

###

Uther surveyed the crowd with utmost satisfaction. It had been a hard day, but soon all remaining traces of magic's horrid influence would be gone from his fair city, and his misguided ward would be safe once again. Somewhere inside he regretted shouting at her, but she needed to understand how serious this was. It was not the time for reason or compassion, not when filthy _magic_ was involved.

"Father," Arthur said abruptly, having finally arrived at his side. "We have a problem."

Uther inwardly threw up his arms. Honestly, could anything go right this damn day?

"_What now,_ Arthur?"

His son hid a swallow, and a thread of fear ran through Uther for the first time. His boy was never afraid of anything. Wordlessly, the prince handed him a letter, written in blood red.

_Foolish fool,_

_For too long you have caused my people agony the likes of which this world has never seen before. Because of you, I know no family, and so I attack yours in turn. For days now I have struck at your ward with my fatally deadly fire magicks, waiting for you to come to me so we may have our final epic showdown._

_However, it was wrong of me to assume your inept knights would sniff me out. Instead, you've gotten 17 random idiots to burn instead. Great job! Clearly I have overestimated your intelligence. Therefore, I have no choice but to come at you directly. By the time you read this, you impudent flutterface, I will have spirited the Lady Morgana to the Darkling Woods. If you want her back, come for me._

_xoxo  
_

_Dragoon the Great_

_P.S. Seriously, don't let those people go. That's totally not what I want._

In his shock, Uther could only find one thing to say to his son.

"…Flutterface?"

###

**And a big high five for Buddy, who managed to figure out the best part of S3 _just before_ I got the chapter up. Way to go!**

**So, not my best work, but I wasn't too enthused with all the setups I had to do in this chapter. Which I suppose is my biggest weakness as a fic writer. Also, a cascade of real life has hit me very hard, which accounts for both the gap in my update schedule (lol what schedule?) and the rushed feeling of this chapter. I promise, next time will be better. (Hopefully.)**

**Coming Soon: King Uther VS Merlin, Lord of Evil! And Morgana enjoys it all waaay to much.  
**


	6. The Most Terrible Evil

"…Flutterface? _Honestly?"_

"It's _idiomatic-"_

"No, it isn't!" Morgana shot back playfully from her spot on the trunk of a downed tree in the clearing, continuing to artfully tear portions of her dress to further her image as damsel in distress. Above her stood Merlin, leaning heavily on an old cane and dressed in one of Gaius' robes, and looking about eighty-five years old. He was currently lamenting his situation for a multitude of reasons; one, he was about to have a one-on-one showdown with Uther Pendragon for the fate of seventeen innocents; and two, Morgana was now showing quite a lot of leg and didn't particularly seem to notice.

This was even more embarrassing than it usually would be because he was now old enough to be her grandfather and _so should not_ be ogling her exposed thigh like that. Coughing awkwardly, he looked back off towards the mouth of the forest for any sign of approaching knights as Morgana continued.

"Come now, Merlin, you should have let me read the letter before we left. Flutterface is not a believable evil taunt." She needled, scooping up some dirt and rubbing it on her chest- _eyes forward, gramps._

"And what would be believable?" Merlin replied, his sly grin hidden by his bushy beard. Morgana cocked an eyebrow.

"Tyrant, monster, butcher, terror, dictator, barbarian, _idiot-_"

"Alright, alright, point taken!" He laughed hard in reply, which quickly devolved into a hard coughing fit that racked his now elderly lungs. Instantly he felt Morgana at his side, hands on his shoulder and back in concern, and he felt the first tinges of her worry for him seep from her magic into his.

"Are you alright?" He heard her exclaim to his left, and he waved her off as he felt himself calm down.

"…Fine, fine." Merlin straightened carefully, feeling several vertebrae pop in a formerly strong spine. He met her gaze then, and they both took a deep breath to cut off the foreign concern and affection radiating into each other. "Urgh, I ache… all over."

Morgana grimaced sympathetically. "That must be awful. Are you sure I couldn't have done this?"

"No, I'm afraid it will be awhile before you can properly handle an aging spell; clearly, it will be a while before I can either."

"Shame; I would have been a much better pretend villain than you." Morgana replied, but Merlin didn't need to magically connect to her feelings to grasp the hidden message.

_I don't want you to get hurt._

Merlin ran a hand over his head and briefly got it tangled in his very long mane. Morgana had cheered up noticeably since he had come up with this, his most absurd plan to date, but he knew she was still haunted by the thought of the lives in danger because of her. It was the same look he seen in the mirror when Gwen had been locked up because of him, and he knew even if they saved them Morgana wouldn't get over this for a long time.

Merlin put a gnarled hand on her dirty shoulder, and her surprise and appreciation ran through him as she met his gaze. "I promise, we'll all be okay in the morning." He said with as much conviction as he could infuse into his gravelly voice. She softened and nodded, and he hoped she could feel and be bolstered by his belief in that.

They centered themselves quickly, but didn't move away from each other. The night air carried the smell of fresh water from a small waterfall somewhere in the distance, and he was briefly blinded by the full moon directly above them. He met Morgana's gaze again and they smiled embarrassedly at each other.

"It's like something out of a romance novel."

Merlin pulled up short at that. _Wait, what?_

"I-I mean the forest!" She backpedaled hastily, and he was struck again at how young and vulnerable she looked, a far cry from the untouchable image she presented to the world. "I never knew the Darkling Woods could be so…"

"…Romantic?" Merlin supplied helpfully, and she gave a tinkling laugh. "Well, I'm sorry your hero in this story is an ugly old codger, in this case." He said self-deprecatingly.

"Don't say things like that!" She commanded aghast, and softened and glanced away at his surprised look. "I don't like it when you say bad things about yourself…"

Merlin gaped, not knowing how to respond to that. It was becoming very clear to him that Morgana seemed completely unaware of any boundaries between them, as if the word 'inappropriate' simply didn't exist for her. He wondered if it was just her nature to say what she was thinking or if the secret they shared made her more open with him than usual.

"Besides, I think you look adorable." She continued with a small grin.

And it was then, laughing heartily with her amongst the blowing leaves and pale the moonlight, that Uther arrived.

###

"…MORGANA!"

Morgana swallowed her irritation- honestly, why was everyone intent on interrupting her and Merlin- and turned to look at the mouth of the forest, where Uther Pendragon appeared in full knight regalia, sword drawn. She was rather disconcerted to notice Arthur and Leon similarly armed flanking him, as well as a large number of knights aiming arrows from under cover of the trees.

Merlin- or Dragoon the Great, where had he come _up_ with that- pulled her flush against him with his cane and held a ball of flame to her face. She did her best to look panicked and not extremely interested in the swirling fire floating beautifully above his palm, her fear of magic being quickly overridden by fascination.

"STAND BACK, CHILDLINGS!" Merlin shouted in his best evil overlord voice, which only made him even more adorable to her, and the attack squad froze before them. Morgana caught his still glowing eye over her shoulder and she hoped no one saw the wink he shot her.

"I thought I told you to come alone, butcher!" He shouted towards Uther, who finally stopped staring at her in concern to look briefly confused. (_Stop pretending to care, you vile bastard!)_

"Your ransom note specified no such thing." The king said evenly, for once trying to restrain himself in the face of his ward being burned alive, and from his disapproving glance she knew Merlin felt her intense satisfaction. Maybe now Uther understood what he had inflicted on the families of those _he_ burned.

Merlin blinked then, looking again very unthreatening, and this really was the worst plan _ever._

"It didn't?" He asked meekly, and Uther just shook his head in disdain.

"What do you mean, it didn't?" Morgana shouted, and took a second to savor the confusion of everyone present before she backpedaled. "I mean, um- that was a foolish mistake, wizard! Camelot's finest will never let you get away with this!"

Under her breath, she continued, "I can't believe you forgot one of the most important parts of the threat; how are we supposed to fight all these knights?"

"I-it wasn't my fault I got distracted trying to come up with a good evil taunt!"

"Oh, and you came up with _flutterface-"_

"Morgana, don't worry!" Uther yelled heroically from across the clearing, and she decided to shelve the argument she was rather enjoying for a later date. (Presuming they both survived.)

"I-I'm not, milord!" She said bravely, letting a timber slip into her voice to betray a false fear. To be honest, she had trouble acting scared, and had to fight to ignore the small voice noting that she had never felt safer than in an a currently geriatric idiot's arms.

"What do you want, sorcerer?" Uther said gravely, as Arthur and Leon both rested their hands on their swords in preparation of the fight that would inevitably break out. Merlin let loose an evil cackle.

"Oh, you should know well what I want fool, it's the same thing you've lived on for two decades now." Merlin paused for dramatic effect, while Uther just looked confused. "I want vengeance, you flutterface, would you pay attention?"

"_Again_ with the flutterface?" She whispered long-sufferingly.

"It's catchy, now be quiet." He hushed playfully. How was it they were teasing each other in front of a wall of arrows that could start flying any time?

Uther spared her another scared look (_Not so keen on shouting me down now that those could have been your last words, are you?) _before staring down his new archenemy. "Have I wronged you in some way, old man?"

Morgana fought to keep the blazing rage from her face (_Don't pretend you don't know what you've done to our kind!)_ but quickly found her anger chilled by what she could feel spreading through Merlin's old bones. She had always thought of fury as a fiery sensation, perhaps because that was how she had always felt it, but what she could feel from Merlin was alien to her, cold and electric.

"You have hurt so many people… in so many ways." He said softly, little sign of the thunderstorm raging inside. "You're blinded by your hatred of magic, you have tortured and executed innocent people, _you,_ Uther Pendragon, are a stupid, arrogant old _tyrant_!"

Arthur started forward. "Hold your tongue-"

"Don't you tell him to shut up!" The protest slipped out before she could stop it, and she flushed as she felt all eyes on her; usually an event that she enjoyed. The clearing was even more silent than usual.

"Err…"

"Morgana, what's going on?" Arthur said warningly, while Leon and Uther shared a worried glance.

She felt Merlin's panic feed into her own, and she felt her normally quick mind spin trying to find a way to cover yet another reckless misstep; if Merlin ended up dead because of her…

Merlin suddenly burst into another round of forced evil laughter, the fire in his hands flaring brightly for effect. "Now, my _true_ plan has been unveiled! Stand and tremble before your beloved ward, enchanted to my will!"

_Oh Merlin, why can't you be this smart all the time?_

Morgana seized on the idea and made an expression as if dropping a façade, twisting her features into a wide smirk. "Yes, it is true- _flutterface,"_ she almost winced at that, "Dragoon the Great has shown me the beauty of magic-"

"Morgana, no!" Uther was sounding horrified, and what she did next was rather impulsive, but she wanted to make him squirm even more.

"-and the beauty of love!" She bit out smugly.

Everyone in the clearing froze for the tenth time that night.

"Wait, what?" Leon said.

"Wait, _what?"_ Arthur echoed loudly.

Merlin coughed beside her, still trying to look threatening while being put on the spot. She deftly freed herself from his grasp and threw her arms around his hunched frame, nuzzling adoringly into his chest.

"We're betrothed!" She announced proudly, relishing the utter terror on the king's face before he exploded.

"WAIT, _WHAT?"_

###

Merlin was having a lot of trouble tonight.

That is to say, he had pulled off a very complex aging spell he wasn't really sure he knew how to work, forgot to tell Uther to come alone (_Shut up, writing death threats is hard!_) and so now had a miniature army to contend with, and Morgana had almost blown their cover in her rush to defend his honor. The thought really shouldn't warm him so.

But most troublesome of all, was that she had now found a way to make herself his fake fiancé and was committed to caressing his face lovingly. Merlin didn't know what was worse; the homicidal fury oozing from every inch of the king and prince, the fact that he could _feel_ Morgana's enjoyment of the way he shivered each time she touched him, or that his very old body didn't seem equipped anymore to fully appreciate a beautiful woman wrapped around him.

_The fact that you're even frustrated about that last part says a lot about how you feel about her._ Inner Will cut in cheerfully, and he needed to stop doing that before it turned into a full on split personality.

"I WILL DRAW AND QUARTER YOU FOR THIS DRAGOON!"

_Oh, right, Uther._

The king in question had drawn his sword and seemed about to signal for the archers to let loose at them, when Morgana darted in front of him and spread her arms out protectively. Arthur slapped down a hand on his father's shoulder, stopping him short.

"Get out of the way, Morgana!" Uther demanded.

"It's Morgan!" She shot back with another of those obnoxious smirks. "Morgan le Fay, queen of the night!"

Leon actually groaned out loud.

"…_Morgan le Fay?"_ He rasped doubtingly at her back. She shot him a mix of annoyance and embarrassment through their mixing magic.

"We-well it's better than Dragoon the Great!" She whispered harshly.

"Morgana, I swear on my life- on all of Camelot- I will break this evil hold on you!" Uther shouted, and Merlin almost winced at the contemptuous sneer she shot him.

"Oh, do shut up! I've never been happier than I am with my beloved." She shot him another adoring glance and he had to fight back a blush on his old face and twist it into an evil grin.

"Yes, Uther, do give us your blessing, won't you?" He said mockingly, and Morgana guffawed darkly.

"Shut up, you!" Arthur snarled at him before looking imploringly at his foster sister. "_Beloved?_ Morgana, he's- _would you_ _stop smirking already!"_

If anything that just made her smirk harder. Merlin didn't know if it was genuine or if he was absorbing some of her emotions, but he was really starting to enjoy this.

"He's old enough to be your _great-grandfather!"_ Leon protested weakly.

Morgana shot Merlin the same small grin over her shoulder that she had before the knights had arrived. "I think he looks adorable."

His very old heart nearly skipped a beat at that.

"Not as adorable as you are, darling." He crooned in his best lovesick old man voice, which incidentally was quite creepy now that he heard it out loud, but Morgana was taking the ball and running with it.

"No, _you're _the most adorable, scrumptious!" She replied as she turned breathlessly towards him.

"But our children will be the _most_ adorable, poodlebottom!"

"_Poodlebottom?_ I-I mean, yes, and they will be adorable _magic_ children!"

"_Evil_ adorable magic children!"

"With names like Brimstone the Bold!"

"Murderette the Terrible!"

"Horridicus the Beautiful!"

They burst into identical fits of cackling.

"_ENOUGH OF THIS FILTH_!" Uther roared, clearly on the very edge of sanity. "If there is one thing I know about enchantments, it's that they break when the caster is dead! Knights, FIRE!"

"Wait, _no!"_ Arthur shouted, but it was too late; the arrows were flying, and Morgana barely had time to turn towards them.

###

Intellectually, she knew it was ill-advised to indulge in this charade too much. Emotionally, she was having far too much fun with it to care that her guardian tended to make irrational decisions when provoked. So, in retrospect, she could say that the wall of arrows headed for her and Merlin was all her fault. She thought of tackling him to the ground, shielding him with her body, anything to protect him from the wrath she had brought down on him. If only there was time-

There was a tremendous rush of protectiveness behind her, riding the strongest plume of magic she had felt yet, and suddenly the instruments of their demise splintered harmlessly against an invisible wall before them. She let out the breath she had been holding and turned to look gratefully at her savior, terrifying and powerful in his gnarled façade with amber eyes fading as he dropped the shield he was clearly struggling to maintain.

That was a mistake.

Morgana screamed as another arrow pierced his shoulder from over hers. Merlin stumbled back against the downed tree trunk, looking ancient and tired and so very hurt. She tasted his shock on the air, the echoes of pain pulsing from her own shoulder, and their eyes met. He nodded firmly at her before shouting an incantation and vanishing within the heart of a whirlwind.

Everyone present threw up their arms to shield themselves from the gale, but she knew where he was going, that he was safe now from the knights. As the air settled, Morgana stared numbly at the spot where Merlin had been. Now if only she knew how badly injured he was.

"Morgana!" She heard that hated voice shout behind her, but she let the king pull her into a hug and returned it fiercely, desperate for any support after what she had just witnessed. _Please God, let him be alright._

"Are you yourself again, child?" He pulled away to look her in the eyes, desperate and terrified and how she wished he didn't love her, so she could hate him fully. She buried those emotions and just nodded tearfully, doing her best to look like a slave suddenly freed. Uther smiled hugely in relief, and she felt Arthur put a comforting hand on her back.

"It's alright now, Morgana." Arthur said softly. "We're all okay now."

Morgana winced inwardly, her eyes drifting back to the trunk. _Not all of us…_

###

It was past midnight by the time he arrived.

Merlin slipped into Morgana's bedchambers as a quietly as he could, having expended some of what little strength he had left to put the guards at her door to sleep from afar. Adjusting his tunic in the reflection on one of their helmets, he had inspected his face to insure no signs of wrinkles. Finally, he took a deep breath and entered.

The lady was looking resplendent as usual, sleeping peacefully in her silvery nightgown with raven strands flowing out over her pillows. He felt his throat catch with something other than a residual coughing fit for the first time since Gaius' potion had deaged him. Closing the door gently behind them, he lifted the cloud of sleep from the guards behind the door and set against it what rudimentary silence wards he could in his exhausted state.

Merlin moved gingerly towards the bed. She was sleeping hard, dreamlessly for once, and while he had come here with the intentions of offering what comfort he could, he certainly wasn't going to wake her.

_I still can't believe- _Merlin cut himself off with a shake of his head, brushing the tears from his eyes. _No, no point crying over it anymore._

Searching for something to distract him, he noticed his lilacs, freshly picked and charmed for good luck and dreamless sleep. They had been given a place of honor on her nightstand. It only took a short inner debate before he chose to expend more of himself to renew their magic, for what good they would do her.

Morgana must have heard him plop tiredly into the chair beside her bed, because she was up in a flash, eyes like sea spray searching out his in shock. Merlin smiled gently at her surprise, and gave a little wave.

"Err… hello."

With a dry sob Morgana vaulted off the bed and onto the chair, throwing her arms around his neck with crushing force. Merlin took a second to hide a wince as she pressed hard against his wound before tentatively returning the hug. The Will part of him noted that he should be taking the opportunity to appreciate a beautiful woman straddling him now that he's physically able, but he shut it up quickly.

Tonight was not the night for that.

"I tried to stay up, to wait for you and-and make sure you were _okay_; I was just so exhausted…" She murmured sleepily into his ear. There were no more tears from her, and he wondered if she had finally shed them all. Merlin ran his hand through her hair comfortingly, feeling her inner panic slip away from her with each touch. "When you didn't show up, I thought you might be-"

"I'm sorry I took so long…" He cut in smoothly to ward off the rising emotions he was feeling in her. "Gaius had to patch me up for a while when I transported myself back to his chambers with an arrow in my chest, and then I couldn't reverse the aging spell so he had to make up this potion to do it for me…"

Morgana nodded against his shoulder, and then gave a yelp as his words hit her and she pulled back from him on the chair. "Your wound- oh, I'm so sorry, are you-"

Merlin waved off her hands, fluttering distressed around his shirt, with a small laugh. "The arrowhead didn't go in very far, I'll be okay."

"But-but-"

"_Morgana."_ He whispered, and caught her eyes with his. "I'm okay. I promise."

Morgana matched his stare as if daring him not to be okay, _needing_ him to be, because nothing else was. Somewhere they felt each other notice that yes; she was still sitting on him. Both were too tired to be embarrassed and too desperate for comfort to give up the physical contact. Merlin just looked up at her silently, a strip of moonlight landing on her face, and waited for her to start talking.

It didn't take long.

"He killed them all, Merlin."

Merlin swallowed and closed his eyes briefly, because he certainly hadn't cried all of his tears yet. "Gaius told me."

Morgana shook her head furiously, lustrous hair flying about. "We-we tried _so hard,_ and it was all for naught. Uther lit the pyre before setting out, _just to make sure_. They were already ash while we were flirting in the forest."

Merlin let out a sigh, and willed his tired arms up to cup her face, to steady her and force her to look at him. Experimentally he called on what magic he had left, sending it up his arms and into her, carrying with it with sympathy and stability and an unshakeable faith in all things Morgana.

"It was not your fault."

She rested one of her hands lightly on one of his wrists, smiling sadly. "Of course it was." Her other hand trailed up his shirt to rest carefully on the bandaged portion of his chest. "…Your injury, their deaths. It's all my doing."

Merlin felt her own magic, atrophied with years of neglect but intrinsically strong, and the swallowing guilt that rode on it. He didn't know how to sooth her.

"I appreciate the desire," she said wryly, a bit of her old humor sparking to life. "But there's nothing you can do."

Merlin lowered his hands to her bare shoulders, and with a deep breath tried to become again the wise sorcerer who had solved all her problems this time last night. "Sometimes there isn't." He said huskily. "Sometimes, no matter how much you feel or hard you fight, things are beyond your control."

"This _was_ my fault." She insisted, weakly but stubbornly, and her need to believe that resonated deep inside of him.

"No." He said immediately, and knew she could feel his belief in that. "This is _his_ fault."

Their eyes remained locked for a time in a weary battle of wills, the stubbornly guilty and the stubbornly comforting. She was the first to give in, and carefully got off him with her face averted. Assuming the conversation was over Merlin pulled himself to his feet achingly and rubbed his shoulder, knowing he would need to baby it for a while. He looked awkwardly at her for a second, staring blankly at the floor, before making to leave.

"What do you do, Merlin?" Her tiny voice stopped him, and he turned back and sent her a wordless desire to elaborate. "When there's nothing you can do… how do you cope?"

The old impulse to take her hand arose, and he wondered how a tradition started twenty-four hours ago could feel so familiar now. Merlin didn't even try to fight it, clasping both her soft hands in his, and willed her to meet his gaze.

"You stand still, and you let yourself feel it… until time takes it all away."

Another impulse made him lift her knuckles to his lips and lightly kiss them, before he moved to leave. Her iron grip, refusing to release him just like she had in front of Gaius, pulled him back to a pleading gaze.

No words were needed between them, the hybrid magic that permeated the room carrying the request she was too tired or too proud or too scared to say aloud.

_Stay with me._

They were barely under the covers before she was asleep, face buried in his neck. With a fond smile, he wished his lady goodnight and surrendered to his fatigue as well.

Morgana only let him go when morning came.

###

**Because sometimes, the good guys don't win.**

**It's taken 6 chapters to get us out of 2x03, but we've finally made it. No, this isn't the end of the story; I just felt some form of closure was needed to cap off this looong arc. I hope the mood whiplash from fake evil shenanigans to hurt/comfort wasn't too hard on your neck. :(**

**Also, I'm gonna stop pretending I know when I'm gonna update and just say expect them whenever. In the meantime, thank you all so much, each and every one of you. At the time of this posting, my little hobby has garnered 58 reviews, 3,498 hits, been favorited 27 times and made 41 alert lists. I just- I can't even- you guys are amazing, thank you!**

**I love you all! :D  
**


	7. Face the Day

"Do you truly have to go?"

Morgana felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention the moment Merlin glanced across the bed at her in response, sapphires drawing her in against her will. The first rays of morning were creeping across his face, odd shadows playing over the sculpted landscape. In moments such as these, she was beginning to learn, the goofy servant would fall away and the ethereal sorcerer emerged, breathtaking in his strangeness. It was bizarre, how long it had taken her to notice him, as if she was intentionally denying something to herself. He smiled softly and traced circles on her hand with his thumb; though in their wakefulness they shyly occupied opposite sides of the bed, she'd found herself almost physically unable to free his callused hand from her vice grip.

Last night had been a first for her. She had slept in the same bed with her parents and even Gwen when she was a little girl, trying to stave away her night terrors, but with adulthood came a yearning to deny her weakness (or as much of it as she could) even to her best friend. She was a lady of the court now, strong and beautiful and untouchable by anything, including silly dreams. And yet, any amount of time spent alone with Merlin found her cast-iron walls swinging open at the slightest nudge, as if he had a key and could stroll into her heart whenever he wished. She had later lamented voicing to Merlin her thoughts on magic when they were fighting for that poor Druid boy's life, unable to understand what had prompted her to say such potentially lethal things, and kept her distance to prevent further incriminations.

Some part of her knew even then that he made her vulnerable in a way she'd never been before, that she had to erect a wall between them to maintain her strength. She had spent so much of her life coming apart at the seams in one way or another; she could not- _would not_- let anything break her further. For his part, Merlin had always kept his own walls between them- between everyone- and she now understood what was behind them; stared into the shining eyes of an old soul who had killed and schemed and fought endlessly to protect those who would hate him if they ever knew. In a little over a day, both of their walls had been obliterated- no, they had been _let down_ for each other, as if on instinct. And suddenly they had gone from close acquaintances to… something more.

Because they weren't friends, couldn't be after they fought back-to-back through the day from hell and lost anyway; after they shared everything and swore an unspoken vow to never let each other be lonely again; after their very feelings mingled as easily as their magic and the line between Morgana and Merlin blurred ever so slightly. But most of all they couldn't be friends because all through last night she had clung to him harder than she had ever held another, her fierceness countered only by his tender grasp around her back, and with all of herself laid bare before another and seventeen lives on her conscience somehow she had never, ever slept better. No, they were not friends, they were… _something._ If only she knew what. All she knew was that now that he was in her bed, she desperately didn't want him to leave.

"…Morgana?"

Morgana blinked and flushed under his tiny smile, realizing that she had very obviously wandered off into her musings and missed his response.

"I'm sorry, Merlin, I'm, um… still waking up." From his small nod he seemed to accept her clumsy lie- they were far too calm to feel each other's emotions- and that was something else that confused her. She had long ago learned the ways of the court, of politics and deflections and double meanings and even outright deception. So _why_ was it so difficult for her to lie to him?

"I was just saying, um, I think I've stayed long enough as it is." Merlin said with his own flush, the sight making her gut do an odd swoop, and the feeling must have been strong enough to register magically because he shot her a surprised look and embarrassedly made to get up.

"No!" She was slightly angered at how childish she must have seemed, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him back to bed, and he gave her a shocked look from the pillows. It took her a moment to realize she was above him now, her hair framing his face like rainfall, and against her will she found her eyes again trailing over his face, his lips, drinking in the sight of his (for once) bare neck and the contours of his collar bones peeking above the shirt.

The sight of his bandages broke her from her trance, making her realize maybe his expression had been one of pain when she pulled on his shoulder, and she felt herself flush (again) with shame. He was only hurt because of her after all, and the least she could do was not make it any worse.

"…Milady."

Merlin's firm voice and the hand cupping her face brought her gaze back to him below her, giving her a loaded look. She felt their magic beginning to mingle again, as best she understood it, and a torrent of his mixed sensations poured into her. Surprise, pain, sorrow, faith, confusion, sympathy, arousal-

…Now _hang on_ a minute.

They both looked away and tried to calm themselves down, and she moved further away on the bed and allowed him to gingerly lift himself up. It was the first time she had broken contact with him since they had gotten into bed, and the loss of it threw her. The more time she spent with him the more she felt her inner sorceress, buried and imprisoned up until now, roaring to life and begging for contact. He brought out the magic in her, literally connected to her in a way no one else could and the newness of it all was terrifying. What was _happening_ to them?

"I think…" Merlin began shakily, and then gave her a short piercing look before continuing. "Gwen will be here to wake you up soon, and I need to do the same for Arthur." …A crooked smile. "And I'm sure Gaius has had a few heart attacks since I went out last night with an arrow wound and didn't come home."

Morgana nodded and tried for her own smile; as if she wasn't terrified by whatever was between them and infuriated that he wouldn't stay and figure it out with her.

"I-I suppose you're right. …All back to normal, then?"

They locked gazes for another long while as the sun finally rose completely into the room. Could anything ever be normal again, after this?

"I hope you're feeling better, milady." Merlin spoke formally as he at last stood, bowing as a good servant should. It was a calculated attempt at reversing the changes in their interaction and she _hated_ it. Instead of letting herself fly off the handle, she caught him before he left with a sensual drawl.

"Oh yes, Merlin. I haven't slept that well in my life."

Morgana took great pleasure in the way his body went still at that, before he slipped out the now unguarded door.

Left alone, she fell back on her pillows, blowing her hair out of her face angrily. Her eyes landed on his beautiful flowers, moved next to her bed last night as a reminder of him. She glared at them as if they were Merlin.

_So you think you can just go back to being my "sometimes friend", do you?_ Morgana thought furiously, too angry to notice the thread of excitement in her. She wasn't going to make it that easy for him.

###

"Where the _hell_ have you been?"

Arthur was already up by the time Merlin came careening into his room with a food tray, almost spilling it in his haste. The prince rolled his eyes at Merlin's ineptitude and strode over.

"Oh, give me that before you fling it across my chambers." He scolded affectionately- or as affectionately as Arthur got with anyone who wasn't Gwen, you had to know him to tell the difference- and forcefully took the tray. Good thing, too, because Merlin's arm wasn't one hundred percent and he had been discretely levitating it above his hands in order to carry it.

"Sorry, sire." Merlin said with a smile. "It was a late night, last night."

That wasn't to say that he wasn't extremely rested. To be honest, he couldn't remember ever sleeping better in his life than snuggled up to Morgana, and did he just use the word 'snuggle' with 'Morgana' in the same sentence? How the hell had all this happened?

_Apparently she liked snuggling up to you too, you know._ Will-Merlin reminded wryly, and damn it, he was supposed to stop doing that. Morgana was bringing out the crazy in him… amongst other things. This was so very, _very_ wrong, not to mention dangerous, and he needed to find a way to control these feelings before he began trying to teach her to magic. Merlin ignored the massive surge of joy at the thought of actually sharing what he knew with her, of watching her eyes light up with that beautiful glow.

_Self-control, Merlin, come on!_

"Oh, _really?"_ Arthur broke him out of his reverie, prat-voice at maximum. So he was cross, then. The good news was that he hadn't started going '_Mer_lin' yet, so there wasn't going to be anything flung at him at least.

"Yes, _really."_ Merlin replied, his seamless deception skills in effect. Well, maybe not so seamless, because Arthur was giving him the prat-eye now.

"Because a little bird told me that you were _drinking yourself stupid_ at that tavern last night while I fought with my father and the rest of the men for Morgana's life."

"…Fought, _really?_"

Arthur grimaced in confusion at his odd response.

"Yes, fought! It was an epic battle."

"Are you sure? Are you sure it wasn't just a lot of talking and some arrows and then the sorcerer left?"

Arthur glared, somewhere between annoyed and flustered. Merlin just looked at him, taking advantage of Arthur's befuddlement at the turn the conversation had taken to swipe slice of bread from the tray he was still clutching unnoticed.

"No, _Mer_lin, it was an _epic battle._"

Merlin just loudly took a bite from the bread in front of him in response. Arthur angrily snatched it out of his mouth and pointed it at him like a sword.

"And anyway, the old bastard is dead; otherwise Morgana would still be enchanted." He sobered. "I still can't believe what was done to her. Do you know he made her confess to being a witch to my father?"

Merlin shifted awkwardly. "I… heard. Terrible. Almost as terrible as my night."

Arthur cocked an eyebrow regally. "Oh, and what's so terrible about dunking your head in a keg of ale and sobbing over your great unrequited love for Morgana?" Merlin shot him a death glare that just made him smirk knowingly.

"_For your information,_ I got into a bar fight."

Arthur burst into laughter. It took Merlin showing him his bandaged torso to convince him that he had, in fact, been stabbed by an unruly lout at the tavern last night; the only cover Merlin could come up with for both his disappearance at the time of Dragoon's attack and his obvious wound. Once he had gotten Arthur calmed down, ("Who the _bloody hell_ thinks they can stab my manservant and get away with it?") he decided to address something that was beginning to grate on him.

"And I'm _not_ in love with Morgana, by the way."

"Mm-hm."

"Totally not all."

"Right."

"I mean, when you think of people I'm in love with, she's not… not even up there."

"Merlin, if _you_ don't even sound convinced, how can you convince me?"

###

It hadn't been difficult to procure the list of the executed.

Morgana had sat there reading it as she eat breakfast, as Gwen did her hair, as Uther came in to check on her and reassure her and all the things worried guardians did when they weren't psychotic. Her eyes blazed over the names, until every single one was burned into her memory, until she saw the ink strokes on the backs of her eyelids. _Never forget_, she drilled into herself.

And that was how she ended up standing nervously under the afternoon sun in the lower quarter of town. Before her was the humble home of Deacon the groomer, husband to Estelle the seamstress who had been suspected of ensorcelling her needle to move faster than the naked eye and therefore executed as a suspect in her attack. Gwen grasped her hand worriedly.

"My lady, you don't have to do this."

Morgana shot her a sad smile. "Of course I do, Gwen."

"This _wasn't_ your fault."

Morgana bit back a harsh retort, so tired of hearing that when it was_ her_ powers that had put Estelle and the others in harm's way. Gwen looked at her imploringly, curls blowing in a slight breeze.

"That spell the sorcerer put you under; it wasn't you, Morgana. Uther killed those people because of _the sorcerer's_ actions, not yours."

Morgana shook her head. The problem with the plan to hide her part in the mess was that it worked too well, hid her blame and made it difficult to openly express her guilt.

"Still, I feel responsible," she said when she had composed herself. "This man's wife is gone and she is just one of many to have fallen in some way because of me." _In _all _ways because of me._ "I _need_ to talk to him, Gwen."

Gwen nodded understandingly. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, thank you." She said fondly, because this was her very best friend in the whole world even if she was too scared of magic to ever be trusted with her secret. The thought speared her heart, made her realize that she and her sister in all but blood were drifting in different directions. Was this what Merlin felt, every time he lied to Arthur?

With a last reassuring smile at her handmaiden, Morgana knocked on the door, and prayed the month's supply of fresh bread and wine she could offer could give the man some comfort.

It was all she could do for her victims.

###

He felt her excitedly approaching the door before he even knocked, and breathed in the cool night air to try and calm himself before their bizarre connection had gotten any further. He was tempted to ask Gaius about it, if only it wasn't so intensely personal , and even briefly entertained the notion of talking to the dragon before slamming the door shut on that idea with uncommon venom. He- _it-_ still whispered to him occasionally, reminding him of the oath he had sworn ("…on my mother's life…") to release him and his terrible rage. Merlin preferred not to think about the dragon- about what it had almost done to his mother through him- but he couldn't help but wonder when the day would come when he would again need help… and what other promises the dragon could draw from him.

"Merlin!" Morgana's pleased exclamation brought him back to reality as the door swung open; she was a vision in blue today with her hair braided back, and Merlin quickly cut himself off before he ogled her anymore. He had been over this with himself, damn it.

"Milady." He said, not realizing how graved he sounded, and unconsciously clutched the wrapped package he was holding closer to his chest. Her face fell at his tone, but she opened the door wider to let him in.

"You've changed your mind." She said, and the anger in her voice was only overshadowed by her sadness. Merlin blinked owlishly at her in surprise.

"…A-about what?"

"…About teaching me magic. You've changed your mind, haven't you?"

"_What?_ No!" He almost yelled, making her jump in surprise. Merlin realized she had misinterpreted his initial solemnity as regret for promising to aid her, perhaps thinking that because of this morning he was pulling back completely. _As if I could._ Even if she was, perhaps, becoming a bit too attached to him then was appropriate, he couldn't stay away from her. He physically couldn't.

Merlin shoved the package in his hands forward awkwardly, aware that he was looking a bit like a child presenting a badly drawn picture. Morgana glided forward to accept it, and he almost cursed inwardly at the way she intentionally brushed her fingertips with his own. She flashed a small, victorious smile at his reaction, before her curiosity won her over and she gestured wordlessly for him to explain.

"Just open it." He replied shyly, backing up a step embarrassedly and catching her annoyed glance at his feet.

Merlin knew it was very counter-productive to stare, but her elegant fingers where mesmerizing as they carefully slid through the shorn fabric; his old blue scarf which he had once accidently transported into an eagle's nest (damn bird). She seemed intent on not tearing the cloth further, and when she was done gently unfolding she looked up at him in incomprehension.

"It's… it's a spell book. Actually, it's _my_ spell book." Merlin felt a massive grin split his lips. "A very early happy birthday to you, milady."

In all of Merlin's time on earth, there were a few memories he held close to his heart, preserved for future examination when he needed them. The pride and joy in his mother's eyes as he performed magic intentionally for the first time. The furious look on Will's face when he told him how much he felt like a freak, as if his friend couldn't understand how the world could do that to him. The first time he had seen Arthur, his mother, and Gaius alive after Nimueh, all untouched after the worst ordeal of his life. The first time he had seen Morgana, looking down somberly out her window at Thomas Collins' execution, the sight forever burned into his mind.

Merlin knew instantly that her explosive smile, and the knowledge that he had put it there, would be an image he would carry with him forever.

###

"…And what does this one do?"

A rumbling laugh. "It darkens a color to black."

"Hm, that's not very interesting. What about this one?"

"Sleeping spell."

"Oh, was this what Mary Collins used on all of us when she was singing?"

Merlin yawned from his spot next to her on the table. They were sitting close together, pouring over the dusty tome like a new toy; Morgana had never been this excited in her life, and judging by his grin it must have been infectious.

"No, this is just the basic sleep spell. There are more advanced variants," he blushed and jerked a thumb towards the lilacs on her dressing table. "I've put a few passive ones on those flowers, actually."

Morgana raised an eyebrow. "They don't work very well."

Merlin gave a weak grin. "…Like I said, passive."

Morgana laughed, taking the opportunity to covertly place her hand over the inside of his elbow, delighting at his shiver. _Not so easy to pull back now, is it, Merlin?_

"So, you're really giving this to me?" She asked, leaning in perhaps a bit more than necessary. Merlin averted his gaze with a flush, looking awkward and adorable.

"We-well, I think the best way for you to learn is to have a way for you, uh, stay connected to your magic whenever you want, even if it's just reading all the stuff you'll be eventually doing. Besides, that book taught me everything I know, it'll serve you well."

Morgana frowned as a thought occurred to her. "But won't you need it? All the trouble Arthur gets into?"

"I've read most it anyway, and if I need to look through it I'll just swing by." She didn't bother to hide her grin at yet another reason for him to come see her. Merlin smiled back, only a bit restrained, and rested his palm on her hand over his arm. They both almost jumped as the idle gesture caused their magic to click into place, mixing like two rivers colliding into one.

"Merlin…"

They were _very_ close.

"Morgana, I…"

…And moving closer. Her hand slipped out of his grasp and trailed up his arm, feeling the goose bumps rising on his skin as if the sensation were her own. He shifted slightly and their hips connected with an electric jolt. The intensity of their bond was overwhelming her, but she wanted _more,_ lips almost brushing, hand moving across his chest-

"OW!"

Morgana yelped as the feedback from the pain Merlin felt echoed into her through their magic, and she quickly pulled her hand away from the wound that she had _again_ forgotten was there.

"S-sorry, are you alright?" _Of course he's not, he was hit by an arrow and you won't stop groping the gaping hole in his shoulder._

Merlin waved her off. "Yeah, yeah, just a- just a surprise, is all."

Morgana thought that was a bit of an understatement, but she felt his guilt and regret about what had just almost happened between them before he shut off the connection. Of course, she also felt a great thrumming _want_ engulfing him as well, which made her more than a little happy. And also smug.

"Well, um…" Merlin searched for words as he got to his feet, rubbing his shoulder achingly. He looked solemn, almost sad all of a sudden, and she was reminded of the look on his face as he sat below her last night. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Morgana said immediately, standing up with him. "I was just as much a participant in that as you were." She was aware that she was flirting for all she was worth, but he really was too cute when he was flustered. Instead of cute, though, she got guilty Merlin, a rare sight.

"Yes, and that's… wrong." He almost whispered, and if she wasn't so confused she'd be infuriated. He rushed to explain, "You've had a difficult few days, and you're not yourself right now. I couldn't live with myself if I…"

"…Took advantage?" She finished for him weakly, and felt a blow to her heart when he nodded. Is that all he thought this was? That she was just… using him for comfort?

"Anyway!" Merlin clapped suddenly, (hiding a wince) slipping back on the cheerful servant mask that served as such a good deflection. "We're both pretty tired and I have a million things to do for Arthur in the morning, so we'll start your lessons tomorrow, okay?"

"Merlin…" She protested, her voice falling on deaf ears as he moved towards the door uncommonly fast.

"Look through that book as much as you want, there's a lot there!"

"Merlin, I-I…"

"Don't worry about finding too good a hiding place, it's enchanted-"

"_Merlin-"_

"…Most people barely notice it unless they know what it is-"

"_Stay with me tonight!_"

His lanky frame froze stiff at the door, just like it had in the morning, but this time he didn't open it. Morgana was standing still herself, unable to believe she had actually put that thought into words. Slowly, he turned towards her, looking bewildered and… hopeful?

"I… what?" He said dryly, and taking a deep breath she stomped towards him determinedly.

"I want you stay with me again, tonight, Merlin. If you don't mind?"

"What- _milady,_ I can't-_?"_

"And why not?" She shot back furiously, using her anger to hide an irrational hurt. Merlin's eyes shot around the room as if he was looking for some escape.

"It's-it's not seemly…"

Morgana took a deep breath to prevent herself from exploding; both times she had yelled at him he had fought back just as hard, and as much as she loved the way he looked when angry she knew she had to be truthful if she wanted him to listen. On the other hand-

"Merlin, it's not like I'm going to ravish you…" She looked up at him under her eyelashes. "…unless you ask me too, that is."

The look on his face was _delicious._

But it was quickly dissolving into anger, and she realized that he thought she was teasing him, or using him, or whatever absurd notion he had in his head. Was it so hard for him to believe that she could genuinely want him? He moved to open the door-

"No!"

-and the door slammed shut again on its own accord the moment it was open.

Merlin's eyes met hers, amber in response to her magic, conveying so much surprise and appreciation and _pride_ that she felt herself glow inside with warmth. Instead of letting it show, however, she made a frustrated gesture at the door.

"See? That's why I need you to stay, Merlin!" He just tilted his head oddly, and she almost tripped over her own words in her rush to convince him. "My magic is still out of control, and it will be until I learn. The last random act of magic I had got seventeen people executed and you almost killed, and I can't-"

She turned away from him for a moment to hide the tears threatening to gather, knowing it was a futile gesture, knowing he could feel her guilt threatening to swallow her whole at the thought of them. Almost against his will, she felt his feet drag him behind her and coarse hands rest comfortingly on her shoulders.

"They're dead, and I can't _stand_ it." Morgana whispered brokenly. "And I can't stand the thought that I could go to sleep tonight and have another horrible nightmare and light my room on fire and _more people could die_."

Merlin rested his forehead against the top of hers, an odd motion that only served to make her feel closer to him. On impulse she spun around, so that their foreheads were now together, and stared him dead in the eyes.

"And then there was you. You held me all through the night and I meant it, Merlin, when I said I'd never slept better." He was blushing again, wide-eyed and so very breathtaking. Instinctually she raised a hand to ball over his heart, smugly feeling his heart accelerate at her closeness. "I touch you, and I can feel your magic…"

A thread of affection spread from him up through her arm, and she let him see the way it made her shiver.

"…and I can feel _you,_ Merlin. And you make the dreams and the fires go away, and I can _sleep._ I need that. I need _you."_

His heart actually skipped a bit at that, and she moved in for the kill.

"Just until I can control my magic… _please._"

For the longest time he just stared at her, blank faced and determinedly calm to keep her from feeling inside of him. Just when she was thinking that he would turn and walk out the door, he gave a resigned sigh and was suddenly plopping unceremoniously onto her bed, arms outstretched towards her. She actually squealed as she leapt into his arms.

Morgana stayed up late that night, listening to the rhythm of his breathing against her ear and the gentle song of his magic resonating with hers. It was the closest she had ever felt to another, the most natural thing in the entire world. No, they weren't friends. And right now, in this moment, she finally knew what they were. Merlin was in denial about it, whether because of their differences in status or that what they shared could get him killed, she didn't know. What she did know is that while she wasn't known for her patience, she would learn how to wait for him.

…_Because we're in love, Merlin. And you can't fight love._

###

**And so it begins in earnest. :D**

**Longest chapter yet, don't expect any future installments to be this long. I had a... what's the opposite of writer's block? Writer's flood?  
**


	8. The Lady's Favor

"_Forbearne_!"

Sparks surged briefly in the fireplace, but nothing more.

"Blast it, what am I doing wrong?"

Merlin smiled consolingly from his seat at the table next to her book, and Morgana was happy to note that he was no longer quailing under her angry gaze. In fact, he had been getting more and more comfortable with her over the past few weeks, and more and more flustered at that fact. She thought his confused distress would be the cutest thing she had ever seen from him had she not already been witness to the softness of his face while he slept.

"You're doing it perfectly, Morgana." He replied gently as he idly flipped a page. "The spell's working fine; you just need to get a bit more familiar with it."

Morgana felt herself scowl.

"I've been getting familiar with it for _ages_ now. I thought you were going to teach me the Lorensian invocation?" She consciously made herself sound petulant, as she had quickly learned that if she sounded sullen he would rush to comfort her. Aggravatingly, he was sticking to his new unspoken vow of making as little contact as possible, and only shot her a confused glance.

"I've already taught it to you, Morgana."

"You taught me the incantation, the way you flow your magic, but I _still_ can't do it!" Merlin just shrugged uncomfortably from his seat, determinedly out of her reach, and she hid her face behind her hair and decided to go for the killing blow. "I suppose my magic's just too weak, then…"

It was with much satisfaction that she heard him finally get up and take her hand comfortingly, beginning yet another Merlin pep talk. She loved those so much she almost wished she had less self-esteem so she could hear them more.

"You are _not_ weak." He began firmly, in full on sorcerer voice in contrast to his usual servant voice. She indulged her manipulative streak and quivered her bottom lip.

"It's been weeks, Merlin, and I still can't light a simple fire…" Oh, how she loved that look. The indignation he felt at the idea that she could feel badly about herself made her glow inside.

"You're trying to overcome a _lifetime_ of not controlling your magic; the fact that you've come this far in so short a time is amazing!" Morgana knew that already of course, but the passion in his voice as he spoke of her was music to her ears. "Besides, you learned the theory and the language quickly enough to already understand _how_ to make those butterflies; you're _incredible,_ Morgana!"

Morgana couldn't hold back her grin then, clasping his other hand over his and sidling up very close.

"…_But not as incredible as you, warlock."_

Merlin blushed as her words rode their combined magic and landed in his head. The first stirrings of embarrassment, joy, and annoyance as he realized that she was again baiting him reached her before he slammed down his walls and took a wide step back. She refused to release his hand with a flirtatious look, but freed one to continue to try and light her fireplace.

The Izo method of telepathy was one of the few subjects only barely mentioned in her spell book (_her_ spell book, her very own; the thought still made her want to jump for joy), mostly talking about the Druid priestess who had invented it, but Merlin had apparently cribbed the basics of it from the Druid boy when he spoke to him and taught it to himself. (She was still awed by and a bit jealous of his bizarre connection to magic, which apparently not even Gaius understood.) Morgana had immediately decided to devote all her attention at the time to the spell, partially because it was dead useful but mostly because the book couldn't teach her; Merlin had to do it himself and thus spend quite a lot of time magically connected to her.

It had been the perfect excuse to explore the way they mingled now that she was capable of understanding the whys and hows of magic, and they had both gradually learned to control the unstable reaction they both set off in each others energies. It helped that Izo the Druid's ancient work allowed them to magically communicate in a much more structured form than shooting feelings at each other, and she had proceeded to almost constantly speak into his mind whenever they were in a crowded room together. The ability to hold entire conversations with him lambasting the court proceedings while they were happening was something she cherished deeply, allowed her to spit in the face of her role as the king's obedient ward and simply _be herself_ whenever he was with her, even while she sat right next to Uther. To her, it was just another slowly receding barrier between her and her love.

At that thought, a bright fire momentarily burst to life in the fireplace, leaving slow burning logs. Merlin yelped in surprise and, to her shock and joy, pulled her into a fierce hug with a laugh. She returned it just as strongly, relishing in his pride in her and in his touch.

_I love you._

Morgana kept the thought closely guarded in a vault inside her; away from the places he could stumble into. The declaration shone inside her, strained against it's confines and begged to be heard, but she knew in her heart he wasn't ready. _I must be patient. He's coming around._

"Morgana, that was great!" He pulled away, still grinning that beautiful grin, and she noticed his hands were having difficulty letting go of her shoulders. "What made you finally get it?"

_Oh, just my undying love for you, Merlin._

"I-I don't know, your support, I guess!" She laughed inelegantly and quickly initiated another embrace before he could remember himself and pull away altogether.

She took what she could get from him these days, physically speaking. It seemed the more that he got used to waking up to her, the more he resolved to keep his distance outside of the bed. It was annoying and she would be lying if she said it didn't hurt, but the sheer struggle in his eyes not to simply hold her hand was a balm on her heart. He was as much in love with her as she was with him, she _knew it,_ felt it in his embrace at night and the awed light in his eyes as he watched her when he thought she was asleep. She had been completely honest when she convinced him to stay in her bed to ward off prophetic dreams and bursts of magic, but the true reason was that it was stage one of her cunning plan to erode all his remaining defenses. Merlin had become very used to sleeping wrapped around her, and no matter how much distance he kept from her by day when the sun set he was under her blankets without a thought.

_I have you._ She thought triumphantly each time she fell asleep against his chest.

Of course, there was the unspoken stipulation that the best sleep of her life would end the moment she was able to fully control her magic, a day they both knew was nearly here. Morgana had tried to downplay her progress in an attempt to buy time for her to woo Merlin fully, but his senses were keen when it came to magic. She knew, soon, that he would have his excuse to go back to the hard cot he tiptoed out of when Gaius fell asleep, and then she would lose his touch completely. She had held back in awareness of his hang-ups, whatever they were…

But it was time to take this to the next level.

###

"This has to stop."

Merlin winced on his way down the staircase, and turned reluctantly as Arthur strode towards him.

"The king would have your head if head found out." He said softly, almost comfortingly. "There's no point denying it."

_Ohgodsohgodsohgodsohgods-_

"…Denying what?" Merlin said in his best innocent tone, which had served him well so far but clearly wasn't flying with Arthur right now. If Arthur knew about his magic- about _Morgana's-_

"…Your affection for Lady Morgana."

Merlin froze as an odd combination of relief and even stronger panic set in. Arthur had been uncommonly observant about him and Morgana (he took a moment to correct himself because there was no him and Morgana, _couldn't be_) the past few weeks, making snide comments and giving the occasional commiserating looks. Since Gwen had seemingly decided to back off him again, he had been more subdued and clearly thought they were both in the midst of forbidden love.

…_Which I'm totally not at all. Really._

Internal Will snorted.

"Take a little advice from someone who knows about women." Arthur continued with a hand on his shoulder and a conspiratorial glance which almost made Merlin break out into laughter.

"If such a person existed, I would." He shot back, and Arthur shushed him with a firm glance and, _oh,_ this was one of their _male bonding_ moments that the prince pretended didn't happen. _Good, I love those. Aside from the ribbing about Morgana._

"Stick to girls who are more… how can I put it? On your level."

"Thanks." Merlin said sarcastically, a thread of anger stirring inside him. _She_ was pursuing _him,_ thank you very much.

"She can't be your friend… let alone anything else." Arthur got a faraway look in his eyes, and Merlin realized that yes, maybe their situations did have more in common than he would care to admit. He mirrored his sort-of-friend's stance by putting a hand on his shoulder, surprising the prince.

"Yeah, I know." Merlin said firmly, trying to convey the sense that he had Arthur's back in this, and was grateful that he had his in return. Of course he couldn't just _say_ that, because this was Arthur and men didn't say those sorts of things. Still, Arthur softened and seemed to get it, giving a manly nod in an attempt to regain his lost masculinity.

"You can't hide anything from me, Merlin."

Merlin laughed briefly at his best friend's retreating back, only letting it slip away when he was gone.

"…Wouldn't dream of it." He muttered sadly to himself.

Arthur Pendragon. The one hope for magic, for _sanity,_ to be restored to Camelot, and he didn't even know it. Merlin shuddered to think of Arthur's reaction when he realized he had even more responsibility to shoulder, in the form of a destiny that went against everything his father taught him. He yearned for the day when Arthur saw magic for what it truly was, even if it wasn't in sight right now.

As Merlin continued onwards, he fought with all his might to ignore the quiet voice echoing up from his darkest recesses. Far from sounding like his dead childhood friend, a voice uncannily like Nimueh's whispered;

_But you only think he's your one hope because the dragon said he was…_

###

Later, the young warlock scowled as he stumbled into the empty physician's chambers after another long day of back-breaking labor. Gaius thankfully was out seeing patients, so he wouldn't have to deal with the brow of discontent following him everywhere. It was clear Gaius was aware of Merlin's, um, whatever he had with Morgana, and not very happy about it. On one hand, he had gradually let go of his crushing wariness when it came to magic and come around to the idea of Merlin teaching her, and even dropped helpful advice on how to be a teacher to a reckless teenager ("I've had a _lot_ of experience with that, you realize."). On the other hand, it was clear that their growing closeness worried him the way anything else that could even slightly put Merlin in danger worried him. He found it both comforting and smothering.

_Does _everyone _know how I feel about her?_ He thought as he stormed into his room and threw his jacket to the floor. Aside from Arthur's little pep talk, he had gotten his mother's approval of his choice in women from her latest letter; because _apparently_ Morgana had been in contact with her, which explained her sudden knowledge of his embarrassing childhood stories.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Gwen had thrown him giddy smiles all day while he helped her with the laundry, and knowingly informed him half way through that he was currently washing Morgana's shift. When he had gotten over his embarrassment at touching her undergarments (_It's not like I haven't touched her nightgown before_…) she had given him the same conversation about Morgana as Arthur, almost word for word, making him realize just how close the two of them had become without him noticing. What kind of friend was he, to completely miss this level of intimacy between his two best friends?

_Well, you've been a little preoccupied with your _own_ intimacy-_ Merlin shut his Will voice up furiously, wondering if the only way he'd get rid of it would be to finally just shove Morgana up against a wall and-

Merlin gave a girlish yelp as his nightstand promptly lit on fire at that thought.

"Oh, _come on!_" Merlin doused the fire with a hard glare before it caused too much damage. With a sigh he surveyed the charred table and plopped down on the bed.

The routine was commonplace now. He would pretend to turn in as the sun went down and wait until Gaius was in bed before putting him to sleep and sneaking into Morgana's chambers. She would pull the door open before he even knocked, having been alerted telepathically to his arrival, and together they would spend breathless hours discussing and practicing magic. He was delighted at her progress, at the way her quick mind attacked the old language and complex concepts with somehow even more passion than he did. Morgana's deep rooted fear of magic fell away as she grew to understand it; grew to _love_ it, and it warmed his heart every time she successfully grasped a spell.

Late into the night they would tire and she would look suggestively at the bed, and he would pretend not to notice how natural it all was as they slipped under the covers together. She would immediately embrace him, almost longingly, as if she had been holding it back all day. He would reciprocate instinctively, a soft grasp meant to convey both his reservations and how much he was beginning to treasure her. Despite himself he would try to stay awake as long as he could in the hopes that she would fall asleep first, so he could watch the way her face relaxed beautifully and her worries left her in sleep. A strong sense of pride filled him while he watched her fondly; the idea that it was he who took away her troubles felt like more of an accomplishment than any battle he had ever won.

In the morning, they would awaken still clinging to each other, having half-coherent conversations about whatever crossed their minds while they woke up. He was always the first to get out of bed, gingerly reminding her that Gwen would arrive to wake her up soon and that Arthur was expecting him, and she would very reluctantly release him and he would quietly leave. Unless of course, it was one of those mornings when her close proximity made his attraction to her, ah, _obvious,_ in which case he very loudly ran out of the room, half out of overwhelming mortification and half out of terror at the predatory grin she would give him in response.

Against his will Merlin had become very used to this new schedule, and to be honest was finding every second of his day that he couldn't spend with Morgana to be a nearly unacceptable distraction. He actually looked forward to standing around in the back of court proceedings now, because he could retreat into the magic they shared across the room and just talk about anything at all with her. Sometimes she would even find excuses to join Arthur on his hunting trips, dragging Gwen along to distract Arthur and allow them more time together. As time passed and she dominated his mind and his magic more and more, he was finding it difficult to deny the truth;

_I'm in love with Morgana._

And that was _wrong._

"I know she thinks she wants me…" He said aloud peevishly. "But she doesn't…"

He stopped short.

_Doesn't what? Know me? At this point she knows more about me than even my own mother._ And actually knew several things only his mother knew now, like the time when he was six when he turned himself green for a month. _Thanks for that, mother._

But as much as Morgana thought she knew him, she hadn't seen him coldly smite a woman with a bolt of lightning. Merlin didn't miss the looks she shot him, the envy and fascination he felt from her towards his relationship with magic. Whereas Gaius was wary of his power, Morgana seemed to covet it. He was also aware that she would sometimes bait him, not to make him blush like she normally did, but to make him loose his head.

"You look very attractive when you're angry, Merlin, you should let yourself go more often." She would say nonchalantly, while eyeing him up the way she had countless times before, the way that made his gut twist and his magic churn towards her.

Merlin collapsed backwards onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. He knew there was darkness in him, the part of himself that let him take countless lives to save Arthur and then store the guilt away almost effortlessly, to be either dealt with or buried while he was alone at night. He also knew if pushed far enough he was capable of a viciousness that terrified him; remembered clearly the frozen rage he had felt towards Nimueh and the dragon, as he incinerated one and swore to keep the other imprisoned alone forever. If it was his feelings for his family that had forged that in him…

…_Then how far would I go for the woman I love?_

Yes, there was a darkness that he kept locked away, and in spite of that she could still see it, and she _liked_ it_._ And deep down, he _liked_ that she liked it.

"What the…?"

Merlin cut off his musings as his hand brushed something rigid on his pillow. He jumped up warily, looking down at the small box resting on his bed. It was made of finely crafted wood and obviously very expensive, with two words burned into the lid in an elegant handwriting he was all too familiar with.

_For Merlin._

###

There was no excited warning dropped into her head from afar when Merlin came tonight, banging the door open furiously and making Morgana jump from her seat at the table. He was very early and she darted a worried glance towards Gwen, looking shocked from where she was preparing her lady's bath. Merlin didn't even seem to notice her maidservant, stomping across her chambers and she would take more delight in how ravishing he looked if only he didn't look so hurt.

"You've gone too far!" He spat, and threw her gift sliding across the table where she slammed a hand down over it to keep it from falling off.

"_Merlin,_ what do you think you're-"

"That will be all, Gwen, thank you." She said kindly but firmly, her gaze remaining locked with Merlin's angry blues, and she was aware at how strange and personal this must look to her friend but she really couldn't bring herself to hide what she shared with Merlin, not from Gwen. Not after everything else she kept from her.

Merlin darted an unreadable look towards Gwen, who looked both offended and confused at whatever was going on, but she must have seen something comforting in his stare because she was soon curtseying and hastily making her exit. Some corner of her mind wondered if she was going off to tell Arthur about the lover's spat she had just been witness too, and Morgana was grieved by the fact that she was no longer Gwen's main confidant and first priority. She wondered if Arthur sometimes felt the same towards Merlin now that he was spending so much time with her.

The sound of Merlin spell casting brought her out of her reverie, the almost song like notes filling her ears as she recognized the silence wards he was setting up against the door, more than she had ever seen him use. So he expected lots of noise, then. When he was done, he turned back to her with that glare, intense anger hiding intense hurt.

"…Did you open it?" Morgana said levelly, lazily tracing the words she had magically charred into the box. While she knew she would get some reaction, she didn't know why he was wounded by her gift.

"You can't _buy_ me things!" Merlin fired at her with more venom than necessary. "I'm not your… your _consort,_ Morgana!"

Morgana bristled. "…Says the man who cuddles up to me every night."

Merlin opened his mouth and immediately shut it again, clearly thinking better of it. Morgana caught the tail end of the anger and even betrayal coating his unstable magic before he pulled it back into him. This was their first fight since….

_Since I got seventeen people scorched to death._

She sought a distraction from her familiar guilt and Merlin's hard gaze, opening her box and gently unfolding the present inside. A scarf, woven from the finest silks in a sky blue she thought complemented both shades of his eyes wonderfully. Morgana caught Merlin eyeing it strangely, like it was an animal that would attack at any moment.

"…I did not mean it as a sign of ownership, Merlin." She began moderately, running her fingers over the premium cloth in her hands as she began to move towards him. "It is meant to show the favor of your lady."

Merlin made a choking sound which was honestly quite adorable; she had never seen him panic before.

"You _are_ my champion, after all." Morgana stopped in front of him with her brightest smile, offering him the scarf temperately. Merlin blushed but quickly regained his indignation; it seemed she had finally baited him past his limit.

"Enough, Morgana." He commanded, ignoring the scarf altogether. "I'm not your champion. I'm not your anything."

"No, you're my _everything."_ She shot back, and perhaps that was a little much but it did shut him up long enough to say what need to be said. "Merlin, before you I was living in constant fear and denial. You _saved_ me, brought me my magic, fought with me to save- to save all of those people. You made my dreams go away and brought me sleep-"

"I didn't want to do that." He cut in weakly, as if looking for something to say against her.

"Yes, but you did it anyway. You pushed aside what made you uncomfortable for my sake, and that's…" She trailed off, suddenly losing confidence.

"Morgana?"

The lady took a deep breath.

"And that's why I'm courting you."

Merlin froze, and darted a look down at the scarf and back up at her.

"_That's_ what that is supposed to be…?"

Morgana boldly reached up and began tying the lush fabric around his bare neck, briefly caressing his chest and face with ethereal tendrils. He swallowed and looked away, face hard, but didn't stop her.

"This is how the nobility shows interest, as well as what they can offer the object of their affections… financially, speaking." Merlin shot her a shocked look and she couldn't hide her wince. "We-well, you were ignoring the rest of my signals, what would you have me do?"

"I don't know, stop sending signals?"

Morgana gave him an arch look.

"You and I both know you don't want that."

"_Morgana,_ come on!" He backed up from her briskly and faced the wall, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose hard. She felt a slight twinge of hope at the fact that he hadn't taken off her scarf.

"What?" She half-shouted, knowing she sounded more desperate than angry. "I know you want me, so why won't you just _admit it_?"

He turned to her slowly, the anger seemingly drained from him to leave only exhaustion. As frustrating as he was, her heart went out to him for whatever was causing this resistance.

"Milady-"

"Don't call me that!" She snapped, before continuing in a quieter voice. "You never use my title when we're alone…"

Merlin cleared his throat and aimed a sympathetic look at her.

"Milady, I know you think you know what you want,"

Morgana stiffened, how _dare_ he-

"But you _don't._ I know I've done a lot for you and I get why you would feel especially close to me, but… what you're feeling isn't affection, its _gratitude_. Because I'm not-" He turned away, looking defeated and terribly in need of comfort. Morgana felt herself moving before she knew it, clasping her arms around his chest from behind in a hard embrace.

"I don't know what you think you are, but you're the _man I love_, and that's all that matters."

Merlin's astonishment was palpable even without tasting his magic. As if in a trance he unclasped her hands and turned to look down at her, and she was nearly sent reeling at the devastation on his face.

"No, Morgana, _I love you."_ He declared hollowly, and the sheer explosive joy in her was immediately tempered by what he said next. "But you can't love me. I'm just a- just a servant, and you're-"

Merlin broke off.

"Merlin-"

"This is cruel." He cut in again, his anger renewed. "You deserve so much more, _you know that,_ and yet you keep pretending we could ever have something. But we _can't_ ever have anything, and you _can't_ ever love me."

He bowed his head, lightly touching crowns with her.

"…I know you can't."

Silence.

_You idiot._ She thought. So this was what it was all about? He felt _unworthy?_ Of _her?_ Furiously, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket.

"Do you care to bet on that?"

And that was how the Lady Morgana pulled Merlin the manservant into their very first kiss.

###

**Alternate title: Eidolon discovers timeskips.**

**I realize Morgana is sort of moving like greased lightning here, relationship wise, but let's be honest. It's _Morgana._ This is what you get when an impulsive, reckless, overly passionate noblewoman who's used to getting what she wants falls in love with a very reserved peasant who views himself as everybody's servant. It also gets you another long as hell chapter, yay!  
**


	9. Hot and Bothered

The world imploded.

Or at least, that's what it felt like to them.

The whole universe instantly compressed down to their kiss, to the way they shared breath and magic as if two halves of one whole. Their magic expanded outwards as it always did when they connected, infusing not just the air but the wooden furniture and the stone foundations with overflowing sensations. Irrelevant concepts like the kingdom, the tyrant, the dragon, and even their own names melted away, and suddenly their only concern was the taste of each other.

The small whimper at the back of his throat that she found so cute quickly became a low growl as he pulled her flush against him, his full lips crashing hungrily against hers. Lithe arms wound around his neck and soft fingers tangled in short strands, making the passion he was so wary of rear up the way only she could.

On impulse his hands trailed past her waist and roughly lifted her up, and she smiled against his mouth as she wrapped long legs around his hips. Blindly they stumbled backwards towards the bed, raw magic boiling the forgotten bathwater they passed in an eruption of steam, permeating the room like mist. They buckled onto the covers, still locked together firmly, her hands leaving his hair only to hastily untie his scarf- _her_ scarf- as he ran his hands through the dark tresses covering them like a blanket.

The clumsy kiss finally abated as they pulled apart, chests heaving for breath and eyes shining completely golden like beacons in the fog. The sight of each other lit every candle in the room with a flare the color of lilacs. A single thought reached each other;

_Beautiful._

And then she was pressing swollen lips to his neck, delighting in the sounds he made. Another wild pulse of magic sent the bedframe groaning along with them, carved wood coming back to life and sprouting branches and leaves of spun gold. He fisted her hair and pulled her back up to his mouth, making her laugh huskily as he roughly rolled her beneath him.

_This is wrong, tell me why, we shouldn't, yes we should, but I can't, please don't stop, I love you, I love you too-_

"My Lady, are you alright?"

###

Like glass, the connection shattered.

Morgana stared frozen at the flushed sorcerer above her, the incandescent lust in his eyes gradually fading into blind terror. They shared fearful looks as the knocking on the door increased, until with a regretful grimace she gently pushed him off her and rose towards the door, brushing metallic leaves out of her way.

"Ah, yes, I'm fine!" Morgana said, her voice still a little shaky from what they had just- _Oh God, what did we just _do?

"Are you sure?" Came the unconvinced timbre of Sir Leon outside the door, ever the dutiful knight. "I heard some strange noises."

She caught Merlin's panicked look from between the branches covering her bed, realizing that all the frenzied magic flying around must have shorted out the silence wards keeping sounds from leaving the room. Morgana tossed her eyes across the hazy room looking for a plausible story, and landed on the empty bathtub which could only barely be seen through the steam.

"Yes, I, ah, slipped while bathing and hit my head." She said with an awkward laugh, letting her embarrassment leak into her voice. "I'm afraid I was quite vocal in my distress, my apologies for disturbing you, Leon."

A worried pause.

"Do you require assistance?"

Morgana rolled her eyes at the door agitatedly; since her "enchantment" all of the knights were extra protective of her, lest Uther take out his wrath on them.

"I'll be fine, Leon."

"The king would skewer me if I didn't offer you help when you're injured, milady." The knight replied tiredly.

"…But I'm not clothed." She shot back with a triumphant edge in her voice, because if there was one thing to deter an honorable man, it was a naked woman. There was another silence in which she heard Merlin suck in a worried breath before Leon mumbled a mortified apology and finally retreated.

They both released a sigh of relief before she turned eagerly towards him with her shoulders back against the door, throwing her chest out. She elatedly watched what little resolve her love was regaining crumple under her most sultry gaze.

"Now, where were we?" Morgana purred as she sauntered towards him through the fog, lit pale violet under the candlelight.

"N-no!" Merlin yelled with a shake of his head, as if dispelling some enchantment. His limber form jumped off the bed and as far away from her as he could. She rested a hand on her hip coyly.

"You weren't nearly that uncooperative a moment ago, darling."

"D-_darling?_ Morgana, no, we can't!" He retorted, adorably flustered with lips still engorged from all the activity. She desperately wanted to taste them again, and wondered what had happened to her initial resolution to show restraint towards Merlin. _Not that I miss it._

"Oh, and why not, _lover?"_ She drawled flirtatiously as she sidled closer, sliding her hand under his shirt and up his taut stomach with a slow smile. Merlin flinched at the contact and almost tripped backing up further, landing sideways on the chair in front of her vanity. Morgana felt more frustration than ever before in her life; they were _this close_, damn it, and now Merlin was withdrawing again. The next time she saw Leon, he would regret it.

"…Why not?" He said indignantly, gesturing wildly from his awkward seat. "…W-Would you look at this place, Morgana?"

Well, he did have a point there. Her tastefully decorated chambers looked like a bizarre jungle, filled with a thick steam ominously lit by lilac candles, with a box-shaped tree of what looked like actual gold devouring the center of the room. Pure magic hummed from the air and every surface, accompanied by shreds of the wards around the door which had evidently been torn asunder at some point. _Probably when I was giving him that love bite, he seemed to like that a lot._ She thought gleefully.

Merlin must have seen the contentment on her face because he made an exasperated sound and got to his feet, throwing an arm out towards the window. A strong wind simultaneously blew them open, snuffed out the candles, and led the haze out of her chambers. He barked another incantation at what was left of her bed with a determined gaze, but his face fell as nothing happened. Morgana moved to stand beside him, looking confused about how to fix… whatever they had done.

"…Perhaps if we do it together, then?" She offered timidly, and he shot her a reluctant look before giving in and grasping her hand. Their magic clicked and vibrated together as they drew in the energies that had permeated the room, acting as one single sorcerer instead of two. She loved practicing magic with him, loved touching the ancient power and simple warmth of the man she adored. Dual hands extended towards the monstrosity formerly known as her bedframe and they forced the wood to relinquish its false life and shrink back to normal.

"Whew!" Exhausted, Morgana collapsed against his shoulder, laughing giddily at all that had happened, all that was _going_ to happen. He loved her, he had admitted it, and they had kissed and nearly done more and it was the most euphoric thing she had ever experienced. She should have known their connection would intensify as their relationship did. She raised her chin to rest on his shoulder and gazed lovingly at him, looking determinedly forward until her free hand captured his cheek and forced him to meet her gaze. Hurt, want, and a deep reservation swam in his eyes.

"I love you, Merlin." She whispered firmly, throwing at him all the emotions he inspired in her, desperate to dispel his illusions once and for all.

His beautiful face relaxed, a small smile playing on his face.

"You do, don't you?"

Morgana freed her hand from his clasp and gently trailed it up his spine, watching him close his eyes and shiver. She would never tire of what her touch did to him, any more than of what his did to her. Merlin looked at her wetly as she cupped his face and stood on her tiptoes to reach his mouth.

"More than anything." The lady whispered pleasurably just before contact.

The kiss was gentler this time, lips barely brushing each other, her tongue meeting his in a playful spar.

"_Come back to bed, my love."_ She thought victoriously at him.

And that was, apparently, the straw that broke the camel's back.

###

Merlin pushed the woman he loved away hard, staggering backwards for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. Pale green eyes looked at him shocked, not to mention hurt, while both his familiar Will voice and his newly discovered Nimueh voice were shouting in protest.

"We can't." He said, with much more confidence than he felt. "This can't- _we_ can't happen, Morgana."

Her heart-shaped face furrowed, for once looking more wounded than angry. "Merlin-"

"_No,_ milady." He cut in hard, wincing at the way she flinched at his deliberate use of her title. "In the span of a conversation our relationship just went from flirting to kissing almost…almost…"

"Say it, Merlin." Morgana said harshly. "We almost _made love."_

Merlin winced, because voicing it made it suddenly so much real, took what had just occurred out of the realm of one of his wilder fantasies and became something that could actually happen, if he only gave in.

Except…

"Leon almost came in, Morgana." He said. "All the magic we were doing with no control… how would we have talked out way out of that _this _time?"

She opened and closed that beloved mouth for a moment, looking for a counter argument, before dropping her face to the ground. Her expression was hidden behind a thick curtain of curls, but he knew it would be a guilty one, and his heart ached at having to remind her of the executions but she _just wouldn't listen…_

"A-and what if he hadn't been passing by?" Merlin continued shakily, because he knew they wouldn't have stopped otherwise and the images that created nearly brought him to his knees. "How much further could we have gone before those random spells broke out of your chambers and spread through the castle?"

Morgana dropped down onto the chair he had been occupying, looking dejected and gorgeous, and how he wished it didn't have to be this way. Swallowing, he went in for the final blow.

"What if I had gotten you pregnant, milady?"

Morgana's head shot up to meet his tentative gaze, looking totally blindsided.

"I-I hadn't really thought-"

"_Exactly,_ we didn't think at all!" He shouted, trying to ignore the tears gathering beautifully at the corners of her eyes. "Morgana, _you're a noble!_ And I'm not! Uther would slaughter whoever stole your virtue without his approval, and probably demand the child be killed at birth, too! And what are we supposed to do, say Dragoon the Great made you lay with him? That he caused whatever insane magic that would happen? That's only going to work so many times! Why would you even think that we-"

A hoarse sob made him stop, the sight of her openly crying now cooling the fires in him. Merlin fought valiantly against the overwhelming urge to go throw his arms around her, and the new urge to seize her lips with his and take away the pain he had caused her. For a moment he felt cold all over, the disconcerting anger he rarely felt raging at the universe for making it have to be this way, before her distress brought him back to Earth.

Merlin settled for kneeling before her, a pale imitation of that night all those weeks ago when everything had changed save that he was staying clear of her hands.

"I'm sorry, my love."

He bravely ran a finger over hers, waiting to see if she would look up at him. But she didn't, and there was nothing left for either of them to say.

It was time for him to go.

###

She slept alone that night, dried tears on her face and the silken scarf he had left clutched tightly in her hands. Sleep didn't come easy, plagued by thoughts of Merlin and Uther and all the things he would do to him should her reckless love be exposed. She thought of his silly smile, his warm laugh, the vast tide of his magic, and the blazing passion he held in his eyes for her alone. She thought of his kiss and the feel of his hands through the fabric of her dress, unlike anything she had ever felt. And despite herself, she thought of a daughter, a little babe with dark hair and cobalt eyes and elven ears, and her loving parents falling asleep with her nestled safely in between.

They each wore a wedding band.

She imagined a world where they could be happy, and cried for its loss.

###

"_Merlin."_

_Her love raised his chin slowly up at the throne, fierce and defiant. Before him Uther was momentarily taken aback at the steel in the clownish manservant, but that charade was gone and what now knelt before him was the seasoned sorcerer only she truly knew.  
_

_Uther stood slowly, the gaping screaming insanity inside once again marring his features. Threateningly he stomped down the short steps toward where Merlin knelt bloody and chained._

"_You are hereby charged with the crime of practicing sorcery… and of sullying my ward." He stopped in front of Merlin and glared down imperiously, the very picture of the mad king. "The punishment is death."_

"_NO!" Morgana saw herself scream from across the room, looking mad with terror as Leon and Arthur held her back, the latter looking grieved and betrayed at his friend the sorcerer. To the side she saw Gwen hiding her face in Gaius's chest, both of them crying openly._

"_Do you have any last words, filth?" The dictator snarled, drawing his sword slowly._

_Merlin met her eyes across the room, and smiled like he always had, big and dumb and so very loving._

"_Forever, Morgana."_

_And the sword came down._

###

Merlin awoke to the loudest scream he had ever heard in his life resounding through his magic from across the castle. Immediately, all thoughts of staying away for their own good were gone. It took barely a second for him to depart inside a swirling gale and arrive in her familiar chambers. The sight that greeted him was heartbreaking; Morgana, sitting up in her bed screaming and crying harder than he had ever seen her, every candle in the room flared to life in her distress.

Her eyes caught his and he was in the bed wrapped around her before he knew what had happened, trying not to wince at the way she clawed desperately at his bare back. The skin of his chest was wet with her tears as she sobbed against him.

Merlin vowed then and there that no matter what happened between them, he would never leave her alone to her dreams ever again.

But no matter how many times he asked her, Morgana wouldn't tell him what she had seen.

###

**I apologize to the amount of readers who hoped for Mergana finally getting together after the kiss. Be strong, it's coming! And hey, at least you guys got crazy magic sex. Well, nearly. WTF was I _on_ when I wrote this chapter?**

**Coming Soon: Eidolon cannibalizes the plot of 2x04 in order to make it Mergana centric. Sorry, Gwen! XD  
**


	10. Hard to Get

When the sun rose into her bedchambers, neither of them had slept.

Morgana was too scared to let go of him, even when her nails dug into his bare chest and drew blood. Too scared to raise her head from the crook of his neck and look into his eyes, for fear of seeing them glazed and empty. And far too scared to fall asleep again, and miss counting the beats of his still living heart.

But she couldn't afford to be scared anymore. Not after what she had seen.

_I love you._ The thought went back into her vault, after being free for only a single night, away from the places Merlin had easy access to. With it went the nightmare, where he would never have to witness what her selfish love had cost him, and the well of protectiveness that was now dominating her. _I love you so much, Merlin._

And she did. Perhaps she always had, from the moment she caught a fleeting glimpse of him in the crowd, the only pair of eyes that shared her horror at the execution. She loved him for his kindness, his anger, his off-beat humor, his awkward grace. For his magic, electric and awe-inspiring; his mind, simple yet sprawling; but most of all his heart, taking in every soul it met, even those who didn't deserve it. _She_ didn't deserve it, and he most certainly didn't deserve to have her inflicted upon him.

Jerkily, she began to look up into the glare of the sun to catch his eyes. Merlin met her halfway, tear tracks running down his face, and the sorrow in his eyes contained every apology he wanted to say. There would be no more crying from her, she knew, no more fear. Now was the time for action, and if there was one thing she was good at, it was taking action.

Morgana knew she would have to let him go, push him away and concede that he had been right because she _would not_ have another life taken for her, especially not his. Not ever his. And she finally understood Uther Pendragon, just a little, the lunacy that devoured him and how he could promise to "raze the whole world" to find her attacker. She had thought then that one could not express love with violence, not truly, and now knew how wrong she had been. It wasn't a pretty or noble way to show that she cared, but the urge to get rid of anything that dared to hurt the man she loved was overwhelming.

_...Even if what's hurting you is what I want most._

Looking into his eyes, she had the briefest premonition of what she would become if he did die, and the sudden realization that Uther would pale in comparison made her shudder inside. Merlin furrowed his brow, perhaps reading the grim resolve inside of her, but she just smiled tiredly at him and tangled a hand in his hair to force his lips down to hers.

Thankfully he didn't fight this time, just moved with her and kissed her gently. They were too tired for any more than that, but she cherished it all the same. If this was the very last touch he would ever give her, she could die happy.

But it was time to end this.

"Merlin…" she whispered against his mouth, a hand weakly pressed against his surprisingly firm chest. He parted from her in surprise, looking only a little guilty, and she just shook her head at him resignedly.

"Thank you, Merlin. But it's time for you to go." Morgana smiled weakly. "Gwen will arrive soon."

Merlin remained blank-faced; it was the first ever time that she had kicked him out of bed and he didn't look to be enjoying it. Finally he nodded and moved to get up, yawning hugely and messing up his bed head even more. He looked beautiful and she wanted to take him right then and there, wanted him more than anything in her life.

"I'm, um… I'm sorry, milady." He began hoarsely, looking sadly down at where she still lay. "Those things I said last night… I was harsh and it was wrong of me."

Morgana just chuckled ironically.

"No, Merlin, you were right about everything."

His jaw dropped adorably, and she continued before he could get a word in edgewise.

"I was… in denial. You've been there for me more than anyone in my life. You know the very worst parts of me and yet you love me anyway." She looked up at him then for confirmation, and was cut to the bone to see the pure adoration he held in his eyes for her. _You love me so much, don't you?_ She thought to herself brokenly. _Oh, this hurts…_

"But I don't love you."

The lady, now feeling as teasing and manipulative as all the rumors said of her, held his hurt gaze with a hard one to hide the dry sobs beginning to rack her. Seeing the desolation on his face was soul rending, but she couldn't show weakness. Just this once, she had to lie to him.

"You were right, of course, you're always right. I feel… _gratitude,_ Merlin, more than I can ever express. And quite a bit of lust too; you are an intensely beautiful object, and I do like to own pretty things." He winced as hard at that as she had hoped, because hadn't she said last night that she didn't want to own him? And here she was, treating him like the possession he feared he was to her.

_I truly am despicable, my love._

"But that's not love, and it's terrible to lead you on like this. Especially when it could-could get somebody killed."

The sun rose fully now behind him, its rays lighting him like a halo, like the storm of magic always swirling within him. He may never let her touch that again- let her touch _him-_ but at least he would be safe.

His heart may be broken, but at least it would beat.

"But… I felt it." Merlin whispered from within the sunlight. "You love me, I _felt_ it…"

Morgana fought to keep her panic from showing. _Of course, you dimwit, you _showed _him how you felt last night. _They had briefly shared each others deepest feelings, exalted in the glow of love for one another before he had rightfully pushed her away.

…As she was doing now.

"I _do_ love you, as a friend." She said without missing a beat, and as he gave another wince she felt her heart drop. _Oh, Merlin…_ "Or a brother, even, but not… like that."

Silence.

"I didn't even realize until now… I-I'm truly sorry to have lead you on."

More silence. _Oh please, darling, say something, anything…_

"I understand, milady." Merlin said finally, in a strangely understanding tone. When he moved towards the door she caught his stony gaze, but it wasn't hard with anger or hurt. Instead it was a strange resolution solidifying in him, one she couldn't grasp yet. "It's probably for the best."

Silently she thanked him for not fighting this.

"A-and Merlin?" She queried as he stopped at the door, wanting him to turn back to her, to see that face just once more. "You don't- it is not seemly for a servant to sleep in a lady's quarters. Please don't return."

And somehow, in spite of everything, _he smiled._

"I won't promise you that, milady." She struggled to close her open mouth before it ruined the frosty image she was trying to cultivate. "Because… because I love you too much to allow you to ever face those visions alone again."

And as his hand rested on the doorknob he leveled a devastating look at her, sending her all the affection and passion he felt, the utter size of it threatening to bowl her over.

"Forever, Morgana."

Merlin left without seeing the way those two words destroyed her all over again. But as she felt her resolution break and more tears come, she tried taking comfort in the fact that at least he would be safe away from her.

_Forever, Merlin._

###

It was nearly sunset by the time Gwen finally convinced Morgana to stop sulking in her rooms and go shopping with her. From her worried looks it was clear that Morgana hadn't done as good a job hiding her shame and sorrow as she had thought.

"My lady, I can't help but notice that you seem rather sad today." Her maid began timidly. "Are you well?"

_No, Gwen, I just broke the heart of the most wonderful man in the world to save his life, and by midnight I'll have to sleep next to him again and pretend I don't love him more than anything._

But obviously, Morgana couldn't say that. She just smiled disarmingly at her best friend as they headed towards a stall in the market, looking to distract herself with some of the new fabrics that had arrived in the lower quarter. Of course she had access to all the best fabrics regardless, but she had always made it a point to instead frequent the commoner's shops that actually needed business. Especially since they had one less seamstress, thanks to her.

"I'm afraid my lack of rest last night has caught up with me once more, Gwen." She said finally after groping for an adequate response. Gwen was the only person other than Merlin who could slow her normally quick wit.

Gwen shot her a sly glance under the fading light as she half-jogged to keep up with her lady's brisk pace; she would have slowed down if she didn't desperately want to avoid this conversation.

"Ah, did your fight with Merlin keep you up?"

Morgana stopped dead in the road, and quickly pulled Gwen into a nearby alleyway and hushed her. If anyone overheard-!

"I _knew it!_" Her maidservant laughed triumphantly against the dusty wall. "You have affections for Merlin!"

Oh, blast it all.

"I-what- I assure you I don't know _what_ you're talking about, Guinevere." She said imperiously; she usually wasn't one to pull rank with her friends, but she needed this conversation done right now. Gwen just gave her a 'my lady, _please'_ look at her attempt and continued giddily.

"You don't have to pretend, Morgana, I understand completely!" She got a nostalgic look her face, and what was she- "I know better than anyone how lovable Merlin is."

Morgana felt her face flush with fury at the sudden remembrance of Gwen's old crush, which _damn well better_ have abated.

"H-hardly, have you seen the boy? Far too gawky for my refined tastes." She lied smoothly, but Gwen just raised an eyebrow and seemed to take that as a challenge.

"You shouldn't be so quick to judge, my lady." A devious grin she wasn't sure Gwen was capable of flashed at her. "He is a wonderful kisser, after all."

…

"_WHAT?"_

Gwen laughed at her shriek (_How dare she-)_ and gestured for her to lower her voice, but Morgana could barely see her through the blind fury undulating in her gut.

"See, you're jealous!"

"I am _not!"_

"Oh my, I thought maybe you just had a little crush, but you're _very_ attached to him, aren't you?"

Morgana fumed; this was not fair, damn it, she was the supposed to be the smugly teasing one!

"Tell me _exactly_ when and where you kissed Merlin." She said in her most dangerous tone. "Leave nothing out."

###

"-and I was just so happy he was alive, I couldn't help myself, so I-"

"-kissed him..." Morgana finished for her, her voice weak. Judging from Gwen's sympathetic looks, her discomfort must have been even more obvious than she thought. The idea of Merlin with another woman made her simultaneously frozen with dread and ablaze with envy. She had encouraged her friend's crush at the time, overjoyed at the idea of Gwen finally finding someone to give all her heart had to offer, but looking back there had always been a quiet thread of jealousy in the back of her mind. It had been dismissed at the time as aggravation that Gwen had found a decent, heartfelt paramour, while she was stuck with a parade of hollow suitors lusting after her status or her beauty.

But Merlin was _hers_ now, dammit, no matter what she told him.

"You're not… there weren't anymore, right?" Morgana began nervously. "That was the only time? And he's never kissed you?"

Gwen smiled sweetly at her lady. "No, Morgana, it was just the once. Merlin's never thought of me that way, and I've moved on."

Well, of course she had. Gwen's feeble attempts at hiding her feelings for Arthur were absolutely adorable, not to mention totally ineffectual. The few times Morgana had tried to bring it up had resulted only in her furiously blushing maid finding a reason to run from the room. She was genuinely happy that Arthur seemed to make her so happy, and even happier that Arthur was actually capable of loving a peasant so fully. It seemed the boorish bully part of Arthur had subsided completely; despite Uther's best efforts he was not his father's son.

That said, should Arthur ever break her heart like she had just broken Merlin's, she would boil him alive.

"Do you love him?"

Gwen's question snapped her out of her reverie violently.

"No, of course not." Morgana retorted harshly as she swept away, her tone leaving no room for argument. She couldn't let herself love Merlin, not anymore.

###

The sun had gone down and they had shifted topic to the torrid rumors of Sir Leon's love affair with the cook by time they returned to her chambers, baskets of cloth in hand. It had been a droll, if fulfilling day, but even though she couldn't get her love out of her mind Gwen had managed to distract her from her woes as well as she always had. Despite everything, she was almost happy right now, an emotion she hadn't felt since Merlin's lips had been on hers.

Which is why she should have known something would ruin it.

"Arthur, what are you…?" Gwen trailed off as the man in question got to his feet from where he had been sitting. He was badly bruised and dirtied, nursing a hastily bandaged wound on his side that already looked infected, as if he had just come from a battle. She had never seen him look sadder, and Morgana felt herself go cold all over as his eyes for once ignored Gwen and went straight to her.

The basket she had been holding fell to the ground.

"Morgana…" He said, voice breaking.

"No…" She stumbled back towards the door and shrugged off Gwen's hand on her shoulder.

"Morgana, something's happened." Arthur steeled himself. "T-to Merlin…"

Somewhere deep inside, past the screaming denials, incoherent sobs, and Gwen and Arthur holding her fiercely, their last exchange rang through her like the toll of bell.

"_Forever, Morgana."_

_Forever, Merlin._

###

**Behold, the chapter that refused to be written. Depressed!Morgana is difficult as hell to write, which may be why I quickly segued into jealous!Morgana, who is so much fun I may have to devote a whole chapter to her. Also, I realized that up until now I've been criminally underusing Gwen, which is terrible. Hopefully this fixes that a little.**

**By the way, Merlin's not dead, in case you were worried. XD  
**


	11. Missing in Action

"Merlin was, well… depressed. He tried to hide it, but you know him; terrible liar."

Morgana snorted from her seat on the bed, Gwen wrapped consolingly around her, unable to stop her own tears. Morgana's had long since dried up… she just felt empty inside now. Arthur was on her other side, a hand tentatively placed over Gwen's hand positioned over Morgana's shoulder, as a way to comfort the both of them.

"A-anyway," He began again, having to pause as something close to a sob tried to come out instead of words. "…anyway, I wanted to um, get him into an argument, let him call me a few made-up insults, that usually cheers him up. But he wouldn't take the bait, so finally I just decided to drag him out hunting since that usually gets him all riled up about the animals; such a girl…"

Gwen gave a careful laugh from beside her and Arthur joined in briefly before both realized that she wasn't and stopped. She felt rather than saw the two exchange a worried look, having noticed that she was staring unseeingly at a spot on the wall.

"Continue, Arthur." She said tonelessly; barely able to function let alone be polite. Arthur wiped his eyes (_He deserves more than unshed tears, Arthur…)_ and continued shakily.

"I-I don't even know what happened. One second he was trying to scare away a rabbit before I shot it and the next a wall of bandits came down on us, and I…" He broke off and looked down, fisting the bedspread in desperate frustration. Gwen reached a hand across her back to rub soft circles on his, and Arthur grunted in pain as Gwen brushed his rather serious looking wound. While her friends stammered apologies and reassurances over the slight Morgana felt a plume of irrational anger at them both, as if they had taken something special. She had done that to Merlin so many times when he was injured from that arrow, unable to resist touching him and forgetting he was hurt. She had even made a few off-color jokes about her being able to caress him without interruption when he had healed fully, savoring the delightful shade of red he would turn. That was _their_ thing, how dare they-

"As I was saying…" Arthur finally continuing brought her back to Earth, as he peered at her worriedly. "There were so many of them, but we were doing well; Merlin even took down a few."

"I'll bet he got most of the ones you thought that you killed…" She heard herself snarl suddenly, still determinedly not looking at him. She had reveled in the tales Merlin told of fighting alongside Arthur, dropping branches and causing pratfalls all right under the prince's nose, and then fumed as he told her of Arthur taking credit for her love's kills to feed his already massive ego. And then felt ashamed of herself when she saw the clear guilt on Merlin's face for the lives he had taken, followed by immense frustration as she attempted to coax the feelings out of him and get him to finally deal with them.

_But he won't be there to feel guilty about his victims this time._ She thought involuntarily; if she had anymore tears to shed she would have broken down right then and there.

"Right, well…" Arthur didn't seem to know how to respond to her nonsensical snap, sharing another look with Gwen before continuing. "We fought well but we were outnumbered, and soon I was flanked and one of them put a sword through me."

Gwen made a horrified gasp but Morgana found she could care less. _At least he's alive…_

"I- they were readying to finish me with a mace to the head. But Merlin, he…"

…_What are you saying, Arthur?_

Arthur took another deep, guilty breath.

"He jumped in between and took the blow for me. And- it- there was so much blood…"

Morgana flinched despite herself and sank her face into her hand, the images painted vividly in her mind.

"…He fell down a nearby ravine." Arthur finished weakly.

So.

_So._

"You left him." She muttered harshly. Arthur ducked his head.

"Morgana, I only had one chance to escape, and they were _everywhere._ Merlin… nobody could have survived that drop, or that blow." His voice fell to barely audible whispers. "I-I wouldn't let his sacrifice be in vain..."

"…Why he would he do that?" She whispered darkly as she staggered to her feet. "He sacrificed himself… for you? _Why?"_

Arthur looked down sharply when she turned her glare on him, and Gwen quickly moved to support him.

"Merlin's… he's a very protective person, my lady-"

"Don't you talk to me about him like you know him better!" She snapped furiously, and she knew she was acting insane but she needed to _hurt_ something, before she turned on herself. "I know him- I know him better than anyone _alive,_ don't presume to…to…"

"Morgana." Arthur said heavily from his seat, somehow both understanding and censuring, and Morgana hung her head as she felt her mindless rage blow away. This wasn't Gwen's fault, and it wasn't Arthur's. For once, it wasn't even Uther's. The blame lay squarely on her shoulders.

_You were only out there because your stupid well-meaning friend wanted to help you, and you only needed help because I broke your heart. And you died thinking I didn't love you._

Merlin was dead.

…

_No._

"He's not dead."

"Morgana, I know you want to bel-"

"Merlin. Is. Not. _Dead."_ She said forcefully, feeling her faith in him grow with each spat syllable. "I would know, Arthur. If he was dead, _I would know."_

Both Arthur and Gwen shared identical stunned looks at the obvious declaration of just how much she cared for Merlin, communicating wordlessly their surprise and worry over her. The two of them had apparently merged into some kind of adorable, aggravating Arwen monster. She laughed out loud at that thought, realizing Merlin would get a kick out of it once she found him and told him. Arwen just looked at her worriedly, while she continued chuckling hysterically to herself and moved across the room to her nightstand.

She smiled fondly, stroking the vase of newly picked lilacs given to her shyly to replace those that had wilted; tied around its neck was the shorn blue scarf Merlin had wrapped her book in all those weeks ago, because she just couldn't bring herself to throw away something from him. And lying neatly folded at its base where she had left it was the sky blue scarf knitted from the finest silks, her gift to him. It had only adorned his neck briefly, but he had looked so handsome in it…

And he would again.

"I-I am so sorry, Morgana." Arthur began grievously, trying to struggle to his feet and almost collapsing on a worried Gwen in the process, a new spot of red spreading across his bandages.

"Arthur, we need to get you to Gaius!"

"Guinevere, I'll be fine."

Gaius. Oh, how it would hurt to see the look on his face when they told him this. Despite all the bad blood between them, she still loved the old man dearly, and Merlin was clearly a son to him. The needling from her love to finally finish that conversation with the physician and let go of her grudge had always annoyed her, because she had _trusted_ him, almost more than Gwen even, and he had let her down. But now she wished she had, wished she hadn't avoided him like the plague, so that she could just rush in there and be there for him when Merlin was out of reach like this.

"No, she's right." Morgana said briskly, tying the scarf around her neck before slinging Arthur's other arm over her shoulders. "Let's take you to Gaius... I have some things to talk to him about, anyway."

Because Merlin couldn't be dead, any more than the sky could be green or Uther could start giving out flowers. He was Merlin, he was going to love her forever, she _needed_ him. And right now, he needed her.

_I won't let you down again, my love._

###

"Tell me everything you know about scrying."

Gaius blinked owlishly at her from where Morgana had pulled him away from Arthur's cot, where Gwen was worriedly stitching him up; she wasn't the best seamstress in Camelot for nothing. Arthur's wound was not only grievous but also infected; it had taken nearly half an hour of work alongside Gaius and Gwen to get the bleeding to stop again.

"Whatever for?" Gaius queried, and it hit her that in all the chaos they had neglected to tell him about Merlin. Her grip on his shoulder loosened as she tried to slip back into the uncle-niece relationship she had abandoned.

"Merlin's been hurt, and we don't know where he is." Morgana said, gently but quickly, needing to flatten his grief before it began because, damn it, they had wasted enough time. "He took a blow to the head and fell into a ravine, and Arthur's too delirious to tell us where. I need to scry for him, Gaius."

"I-I have to sit down…" Gaius murmured weakly, and she rolled her eyes but helped him into a chair anyway. "My boy… he can't be-"

"Don't say it!" She snapped harshly, and instantly regretted her tone at the look on the old man's face. "Merlin… he isn't dead, I know he isn't. But he's hurt and lost and scrying is the only thing I can think of to find him, but my book doesn't say anything about it. Gaius, please; right now Merlin doesn't need your tears, he needs your _help_."

An odd moment passed where they just looked at each other, ignoring Gwen bustling about Arthur in the background, and the open wound between them began to close out of shared fear for the man they both loved. And then Gaius was nodding, wiping unshed tears from his eyes and moving into advisor mode. _Good man._ She found herself thinking proudly.

"Scrying is an ancient art connected to the visions of a Seer." He began, and she found herself involuntarily shuddering at the mention of her power, the only part of her magic that still terrified her. "Few who lack the Sight can master it, so normal wizards stopped pursuing scrying all together, and its knowledge gradually became limited to the Seers themselves."

"And since all other Seers are dead now…" Morgana felt her stomach drop, fingering the scarf around her neck anxiously the way Merlin always had when he was nervous. Another round of panic began to rise from her gut at the idea of the Merlin's beautiful face, matted with blood and dirt, staring lifelessly-

_No, I _won't_ give up on you._ She cut herself off furiously. _I will find you if I have to spend the rest of my life looking_.

Breaking from her reverie, she noticed Gaius looking very strangely at the ground, glaring through it as if there was an enemy under the floorboards. He noticed her looking and tried for an innocent expression; she just tilted her head in response, the way Merlin always said made her look "beautiful and dangerous", with that goofy smile that made her pulse quicken.

"You know something." She stated; it wasn't a question.

Gaius took a deep breath and nodded gravely, glancing at Gwen across the room to make sure that she was still totally absorbed with her beloved's well-being.

"There is another Seer living in this castle." Morgana felt the floor drop underneath her; _another_ like her, all this time? But before she could get excited or angry or scared, he said the last thing that she could have expected. "I am speaking, of course, of the Great Dragon."

Morgana reared her head back in shock. Everyone knew of the Great Dragon, the very last of its kind defeated and trapped by Uther himself beneath the castle, mainly because he never shut up about it. As the idea of any single person defeating a dragon was farfetched as it was, coupled with the fact that no one had actually _seen_ the dragon, almost everybody considered it propaganda. Even the section of the guards stationed at the entrance to it's supposed lair thought it was merely rumor, and could be heard going on long rants in the tavern about how if there was a magical beast living in the cave, why did they never see or hear it?

_Because it dreams when you're coming to gawk and hides, of course._ She thought, feeling sudden compassion for the poor beast. Her day-to-day life and the people she loved were her only escape from the dreams; she couldn't imagine what would happen to her if she was trapped alone with them for two decades.

"I have heard tales of the power and wisdom of the dragons, beyond even human intelligence." Morgana said hopefully. "Would this dragon help a fellow Seer? Perhaps we could promise to free it in exchange?"

"_No!_" Gaius half-shouted, and waved down a concerned look from Gwen before turning back to her in a harsh whisper. "That dragon must never be set free! He is not to be trusted, Morgana!"

She felt the first stirrings of her old conflict with the physician rise up once more.

"Oh, like I couldn't be trusted, like I couldn't be _set free_, Gaius?" Morgana spat venomously, but instead of looking reproached Gaius just looked more panicked.

"Do you want to know one of the largest reasons _why_ I kept your powers from you, Morgana, aside from the danger they posed to you?" He bit out in a rush. "…_Because he told me to."_

"W-what…?" Morgana felt the world tilt for the hundredth time that night, stumbling back and slipping into the chair opposite him. "The Great Dragon _knew_ about me…?"

Gaius nodded gravely, looking guilty and furious at once, though she knew it wasn't directed at her.

"He called to me whenever you visited the castle with your father, urging me to slip you poisons or arrange for 'accidents' to get rid of you." He said, looking sympathetically at her as she reeled. At her horrified, questioning gaze, he continued. "Whenever I disobeyed him… Morgana, if he hadn't had some plan for me, I honestly think he would have eaten me in return."

"I-I… thank you, Gaius," She blurted out. "For not killing me, I mean. But if you disobeyed _those_ orders, why did you still choose to keep me in the dark?" It was an almost childish whisper, she thought, but the urge to know _why_ he had hurt her so temporarily overrode everything else. Gaius darted his eyes to the floor, ashamed.

"I truly did think it safest for you to keep that part of yourself away from you." He said tiredly. "You and Merlin get so caught up in the wonders of magic I think you forget the incredible dangers… especially in Camelot. But in addition, the dragon played on some… issues of mine that affected me greatly at time."

Morgana nodded expectantly, some part of her annoyed at how this was derailing her from her quest to find Merlin, the rest of her needing the answers to some very big questions in her life. Gaius' years seemed to catch up to him before her eyes, the lines on his face standing out in sharp relief in the candlelight.

"I had a student, once; before the Purge, I mean. Her name was Nimueh." A wry smile lit his old face. "She was a precocious child with the Sight from a minor noble family, looking to join the Sisterhood of the Blessed. They found her too selfish, too violent for their tastes, so they sent her here to learn discipline."

"…To Camelot?" Morgana asked disbelievingly, wondering why a sorceress- a _Seer_, like her- would ever be sent to this accursed place to learn anything. A part of her wondered at the idea of an order of priestesses, removed from the constraints of men and forging their own path, and wept for their loss. Another part of her noted how quickly she had fallen back into the old role of Gaius' student, as if she was eleven years old again feigning interest in anatomy in order to get out of dress fittings.

"You must remember, child, magic was widely practiced before Uther lost himself, even here in Camelot. I was an old friend of the Sisterhood and they entrusted Nimueh to me and my… to me and my colleague Alice, to teach her to appreciate magic as more than a means to grab power."

Morgana almost asked who this 'Alice' was, the affection and loss he felt for her obvious in his voice, but decided instead to push to finish the story; Merlin needed her, after all. "And did you…?"

Gaius dropped his gaze.

"I thought we did. Nimueh lost her attitude and finally became a priestess, compassionate and fiercely powerful. She was… one of my closest friends. But then the Purge came, and she snapped as surely as Uther had. I tried to help her, Morgana… but in the end I had only made her stronger, not wiser. I wanted to teach her to use magic for good; instead I created Merlin's worst foe."

Morgana tensed; Merlin had never mentioned this Nimueh to her. _Has he been keeping secrets from me, all this time?_

"I failed her… just like I've failed Merlin…"

The lady felt an odd combination of sympathy and fury for the ancient advisor, because she could make the connection now and it was both haunting and aggravating. All this time…

"The dragon told you he saw me ending up just like this Nimueh woman, didn't he? That should you teach me everything you knew, I would just use it to maim and to kill. That no matter what I _said _or _did_ that I would end up evil, like her?"

Gaius snapped his gaze towards her. "I have never thought you evil, my child."

"No, just misguided." She said, her anger abating into sorrow. "And perhaps you're right. I know that I can be selfish and violent, like you said of her… I know that there is darkness in me, as do you. You were trying to shield me from it, and from Merlin. You didn't want him to go through with me what you did with her, did you? "

Gaius just held her gaze, looking sad and old; and inexplicably, she found herself finally forgiving him. Perhaps it was these new revelations or perhaps Merlin was finally rubbing off on her, but she just couldn't hold a grudge against him anymore. She still didn't agree with his decisions, but she at least understood them now. Gaius had tried to help her in the way he had thought best and had failed miserably, just the latest in an apparently long line of failures in his life. Merlin was out there, possibly dying, and she owed it to him to be the woman he knew she could be.

Besides, she missed her poor harried uncle figure, and she couldn't stand to lose anyone else today.

Gwen made a surprised sound as she looked up from the cot in time to see her lady pull the old man into a crushing hug, the tears he had been holding back bursting through finally. She let him cry quietly on her shoulder for all that he had lost and for the one last person he had left, alone and injured somewhere out in the wild. From the corner of her eye she caught Arthur awaken, smiling sadly at the sight of the two old friends finally reuniting.

Morgana made a vow to herself. There would be no more tears from any of them. When she brought Merlin home- and she _would-_ it would be to his family, finally whole again.

###

"_I still don't like this plan, Morgana."_

"_Gaius, this bastard is the only person in the world who can help me find Merlin right now. I have to risk it."_

Morgana nearly collapsed in exhaustion when she had finished putting the three guards to sleep; she knew had progressed very far in ability, but she still had a way to go until she could stand as Merlin's equal the way she often fantasized. Torch in hand, she steadied herself and swept past them towards the mouth of the chamber.

"_The Great Dragon has wanted you dead since you were a little girl… even if he is the only one left holding the secrets to scrying, I'm not even sure Merlin's safety is reason enough to not just cook you like pheasant the moment you appear before him."_

"…_You say 'Merlin's safety' as if it is a forgone conclusion that the monster will care about him."_

"_Merlin hasn't told you?"_

Morgana scowled into the dark corridor as her shoes clicked on stone. Oh yes, when she saved her love and brought him home, they were going to have a _very_ long talk about keeping secrets. The enclosed staircase opened wide into a breathtaking underground chamber, spires of stalagmites filling her vision for as far as the eye could see. She walked tentatively to the edge of the rocky outcropping, where before her stood a large crag sporting countless scratch marks, and swallowed in anxiety.

"_Whatever this creature's interest in Merlin- or myself- I have to go to him. There's no other option."_

"_And if you die, Morgana?"_

"…"

Morgana knew the answer now, standing alone in a blackened cave smelling of brimstome. She would be with Merlin again, whatever it took; whether that meant walking the world in search of him or joining him in death.

"DRAGON!" She roared into the dark, wavering as she tasted a monstrous anticipation on the air. "Before you attempt to strike me down, know this; Merlin is in danger, and you and I are the only ones who can save him!"

There was silence, save for the echoes of her proclamation, long enough for her resolve to falter again and some nervousness to creep back in. Until finally, terribly, a dry laugh wheezed from somewhere above her, ancient and dusty like sandpaper on her skin.

"Today is not the day Merlin's story ends…" Came a sly voice, booming out from amongst the scrabbling of claws on rock and the clank of chain. "Yours, however…"

Perhaps this would not be so easy.

"I-I don't know what you have against me, why you've made attempts on my life," She shouted back, desperately trying to hide her growing fear. "But in this case, I can forgive it! I assure you Merlin could be near death as we speak; we are alike, at least, in our desire to protect him-"

Morgana's scream tore itself from her throat as a massive, glittering form crashed to a landing in front of her, great wings stretching magnificently above in a display of overwhelming size. She crumpled back to the ground against the force of its furious roar, an ancient and alien magic that terrified her infused into the blast of air. Shining golden eyes consumed her vision; like frozen stars, they held all of the power of Merlin's and none of his gentle warmth.

"We are _nothing_ alike, witch!" He- _it-_ rumbled, through teeth longer then her entire body. "Your role in this play is already cast; you are the darkness to his light, the hatred to his love."

An expression eerily reminiscent of a smile flashed at her.

"But I thank you, _my lady,_ for giving me the chance to remove you from this story altogether."

###

"Well, well, look who's finally waking up?"

Merlin groaned incoherently at the unfamiliar voice, wincing against the firelight as his eyes struggled to open. A kinder voice told him to take it easy, putting a companionable hand on his shoulder.

"W-what's goin' on…" He said hoarsely through the pounding of his head.

"Ah, you don't remember, then? No surprise, you were pretty banged up!" The first voice chuckled sinisterly; okay, so _not_ Camelot, then.

Merlin closed his eyes hard and thought back. The first thing he remembered was Morgana, and of course the woman he loved more than anything would be the first to come back to him. He smiled stupidly at the thought of her, lighting a fire for the first time, hugging her fiercely and the warmth of her body as she returned the embrace. The brilliant smile she gave him and only him.

Then he remembered the gift. The exquisite scarf, made exactly to his tastes but from finer material than he had ever touched, a clear offering to him that moved him more than words could say and set him ablaze at the idea that she could possibly be making such an overture. Their clash, fighting harder than ever before, her impassioned denials at his belief that she felt attached to him only in the way she would be to any valuable object in her collection. Three little words from them both, finally breaking the surface after over a month of being buried.

_I love you._

And next was the kiss that parted the clouds, the rapid escalation that bent the entire room to their wild magic, Leon's arrival sharply cutting off the bliss entwining them. And then his resolve to stay away from her for her own good, and the terrible sound of her scream in his head instantly destroying it. A long, sleepless night letting her clutch him in a vice grip, gently asking what she had seen and worrying at her panicked silence. And then… _and then…_

_I don't love you._

Merlin jammed his eyes closed even tighter, as if he could block out the memory along with the light.

"Still not one-hundred percent, eh?" The voice cackled. "Well, you best be shaping up, your highness… Hengist is real excited to see the famous Prince Arthur put his skills in the arena to the test."

Merlin's eyes snapped open just in time to see a guard- _a bandit, that's right-_ swaggering out the door. _Prince- what in the name of the Gods?_

"I was as surprised as you were."

Merlin darted his head towards the side of what he now recognized to be a dingy cell, as a familiar face rested another firm hand on his shoulder. It couldn't be-

"…_Lancelot?"_

###

**Have you ever had a chapter that just up and ran away with itself? Meet the queen mother of them. I had only two things to accomplish in this chapter; open with Morgana's grief and get her to resolve to stop crying and start ass kicking, close with Morgana versus Kilgarrah and establishing Merlin as taking Gwen's place in 2x04's plot. Somewhere in between Gaius ambled in, berated me for not using him for seven chapters, and demanded enough character development to make this set-up chapter the longest installment yet. I hope it wasn't too out of place, once I wrote it I just couldn't see the story without it. :(  
**

**The idea of Gaius keeping Morgana in the dark and encouraging Merlin to do the same has always rankled with me, until I realized the clear parallels between Gaius and Nimueh's interaction in 1x13 and Mergana's in S3. Seriously, it's a wonder they didn't write it that way on purpose. I can easily see Gaius struggling to save a young Nimueh from herself, and his failure wounding him enough to try to save Merlin from making his mistakes. Also, I can't believe that Kilgarrah wouldn't be working against Morgana from day one; and as he and Gaius are shown to have a tumultuous past relationship in 1x06 similar to the dragon's and Merlin's, and Gaius's overt caution about Morgana's powers makes little to no sense, I don't think it's a leap to presume the dragon tried turning him against her the way he did with Merlin. Way to fulfill that prophecy you're trying to thwart, Kilgarrah!**

**Also, a preemptive consoling to the Arwen inclined; Lancelot is not a threat to them in any way. (Apologies to the Gwencalot inclined.) Arwen is my official beta couple and I'm 100% committed to them being adorable and aggravating in the background till the end of the story. But Lancelot won't be bashed here either; so much of the fanbase despises him for the role the legends force him into, but in my view he's a genuinely good guy and a dear friend to Merlin. Especially now that they can commiserate over lost love and being stupidly noble.**

**So, Merlin's okay! Sorry I gave everybody a heart attack last chapter. (Okay, no I'm not. ^_^)  
**


	12. Deal with the Devil

Morgana felt light on her face, and for a split second convinced herself she was back in bed with _him,_ waking to the first morning sun, and all of this had just been another horrid premonition. Warmth tingled all over her, and could almost believe it to be _him,_ lips again searing hers with love and passion and a thousand promises for the future. An eruption of magic swirled around her, and the magnitude of it was like _him,_ a power both brand new and so very old safely engulfing her like a blanket.

But she knew that the approaching force wasn't her beloved, or anything so beautiful. The Great Dragon, their hidden puppeteer, had finished its taunt and exhaled a wall of flame that consumed her vision. Time seemed to slow, the way Merlin had casually stopped it to catch her vase once and lead her to spend days theorizing over _how_ he could do it. Here, in the heart of the forge, she knew she was going to die.

_I'm not ready…_

She had so much to make up for, so many mistakes. Why couldn't she have just talked to him, lowered her walls the way she always did? Why did she insist on letting her terror, her damnable dreams, take her away from the axis her life now turned around? Why did she get that blasted warning if it was only going to set in motion events that would kill him anyway?

_Please, not like this…_

Was there truly something so wrong with her that her fellow Seer would go to such great lengths to neutralize her? She had gotten seventeen people murdered, had attempted an assassination and daydreamed about going through with it, but did that make her so irredeemable as to not even be allowed a _chance_?

_The darkness to his light, the hatred to his love…_

Fire was licking around her, her mind racing in the half-second it was taking to reach her. All Morgana could think of was Merlin, her dear Merlin, alone and hurt and convinced she didn't love him, and it was all _wrong._ He was the best of all of them, and no matter what she did it seemed he was set to die because of her. He _loved_ her, in a way she had never before been loved, and whether he lived or not he would never know just how much she loved him. Was their story going to end here, with them both dying alone and unsung?

No.

No!

"NO!"

Some part of her was aware of the sudden cold, the arctic storm that burst forth from her entire body and froze the cursed fire solid, sending the dragon careening back in agony as frost latched onto its scales like creeping cobwebs. But the rest of her was just concerned with her scream, with pouring every ounce of pain and loss and _love_ into it, railing against the world for what it was taking from her. And then her voice gave out and the chill ceased, the once-in-a-lifetime burst of magic abating with her fury and the frost evaporating almost immediately into steam.

Morgana knelt panting on the cave floor, exhausted of all magic and emotion. From out of the dark came that hated beast, clawing its way up its rock from where her storm had blown it down below. It collapsed in front of her, releasing a wounded breath that revealed weak flames trying to spark under the intense cold that had permeated it body. Unable to use its primary weapon and seemingly too hurt to simply eat her, it simply stood shakily on its sharp pillar and waited for her to meet his eyes.

"Well, that _was_ impressive." It spoke personably when she finally did. Morgana shot it an angry, exasperated look, and it actually _chuckled_ at her, the damnable fiend. "So much bite for such a tiny little hatchling… although I'm afraid I'm still more awestruck by Merlin's instinctual shield when it comes to stopping my fire. Less ostentatious, but so much more elegant than your little winter temper tantrum."

Morgana seethed; partially at the image of Merlin nearly being engulfed by the monster's terrible wrath, partially because of the confirmation that her love had been keeping this a secret from her. It wasn't that she didn't think he may have a good reason; if he knew about the dragon's vendetta against her she could see him keeping her in the dark for her own safety. It just didn't make her any less incensed at the idea of him hiding parts of himself from her, while she gave him everything.

_She says, while ignoring that she still freezes up every time he even broaches the subject of her parent's deaths…_ Morgana shushed the voice, her heart bleeding at how strangely alike it sounded to her father's gruff council.

"You tried to kill him." She bit out darkly, holding his looming gaze as hard as she could. The dragon, equally unable to move, just cocked its head amusedly. There was something decidedly disturbing about the way he had casually switched in personality from unknowable abomination to an almost scholarly presence with a pleasantly mocking tone. Her inner Gorlois voice briefly wondered at the similarities with Uther's two faces before she shut it down, because whatever he was the king was nothing like this… _thing._

"…My, my, how fascinating this is." The dragon crooned, an unpleasant lilt to his voice that reminded Morgana far too much of Gaius when he was examining a particularly interesting specimen. "Does that actually make you upset, little witch?"

Morgana fisted a handful of recently frozen gravel to give her something to channel her fast returning anger into.

"You tried to cook the man I love like dinner, beast; it makes me _murderous."_ She snarled. The dragon actually reared its long neck back as if struck, fanged jaw dropping open in an almost human expression shock.

"Ex-excuse me, I'm quite old now and my hearing is not as keen as it once was." It chortled dismissively, that infuriating dry laugh making her want to give anything to have the power to hurt him again. "I thought I heard you claim to _love_ the young warlock. Forgive me; it was my mistake."

"I do love him." Morgana fired back firmly, allowing the overwhelming passion she felt for him to possess her voice. She heard her voice soften at the thought of him, and the hurt on his face that she had put there this morning. "And I will love him forever…"

For the longest time, the two Seers just stared at each other, one in drained anger and firm conviction, and the other in a surprised contemplation. She watched his mind, older and wiser than she could imagine, race behind cold amber orbs. It was with great hatred that she acknowledged what she saw there; the scheming and manipulative streak in him was one she recognized every time she looked in the mirror. That recognition made her wonder worriedly if this is the end that all with their Sight met; lounging in a dark lair interacting with the world only through visions, influencing those their powers deemed important for their own gain.

_I will die before I allow myself to fall to your level, demon._

"You _do,_ don't you?" It finally said, resting it's head on folded claws in an unconscious mockery of meditation. "My, and here you've gone and actually made me feel sorry for you. How very impressive, my lady."

Morgana drew in a deep breath, because for the very first time she had discovered someone more aggravating than Arthur Pendragon and if she didn't reign herself in she was going to explode again. She had to secure his help before he recovered enough to strike at her, before she lost Merlin for good.

"Merlin saved me." She began with a fake calm that the dragon seemed to find quite amusing. "When I was lost in the dark, he pulled me into his light. He is the kindest, bravest man I know and I love him more than life itself. And without the ability to scry, I may never be able to tell him that. So, please…"

She broke off under the dragon's gaze, hopeful at the genuine concern in them that it was desperately trying to hide.

"What has happened to Merlin…?" It said as if deigning her to speak, but she could see the underlying panic beginning to rise in him.

"He was hurt badly by a mace to the head, and took a very long drop. I don't know where he is, much less if he's even alive, and scrying is the only solution I can think of."

The dragon made an annoyed sound at the back of its throat to shield the anxiety he obviously felt at her description of Merlin's misfortune. Perhaps the beast _was_ capable of caring, for him at least…?

"How very peculiar that to save Merlin requires giving you an ancient art which you can only obtain from me." It accused slyly, the rat bastard. "According to you, that is."

"Just scry for him yourself, then!" Morgana shouted desperately, staggering finally back to her feet.

"That is decidedly human magic, and one too connected to water for a being of the blaze such as myself." It snorted derisively, and she almost stomped her foot in frustration.

_Deep breaths, Morgana…_

She opened her eyes, hoping they reflected a calm she didn't feel.

"Then I offer myself to you."

The dragon threw its head back and laughed harshly.

"I am not stimulated by bestiality, I'm afraid."

Morgana would have flushed if she wasn't so horrified.

"No, you senile old fool, I'm offering my _life!_" She bellowed furiously, because she _had to make it listen._ "You can kill me, torture me, whatever you like! Just please… _please_ help me save him…"

The dragon lowered its cruel face towards her, until she could smell the brimstone on its breath and seethe at the abject _pity_ on his face.

"And yet, I still only have your word on this, and you do not even know how little that is worth to me. No, Merlin's destiny is not to perish; he will walk in this world forever, the one insurmountable bastion of magic in a world that would seek to crush it."

"…W-What _is_ he?" She heard herself blurt out, finally voicing the persistent question in the back of her mind since she had first understood the rules of magic enough to see how he broke them so casually.

"I have my theories, none of which you shall be privy too." It replied briskly. "The more important question is… just what are _you?"_

Morgana opened and closed her mouth gawkily, feeling suddenly like a prepubescent child under his judging gaze. She knew what she was, _who_ she was…

_Don't I?_

"I'm the woman who loves Merlin, to death and beyond." She proclaimed imperially.

"Irrelevant, I'm afraid." The dragon retorted, almost kindly. "You are Merlin's mirror image, his shadow standing on the end of the path he chose not to walk. It is the witch's edict to maim and kill, to hoard the whole world for herself. You will fight, and hate, and harm Merlin terribly, but in the end _what you are_ will not permit you to love him."

Morgana took a step backwards, braided hair flying about her head as she shook it in denial.

"I am truly sorry for this divergence from your path, my lady; I have loved and lost more people than you have passed on the street, and I can tell you that heartbreak never hurts any less." Amber eyes softened sadly at her. "But none of us can defy our destinies. Inevitably, your selfishness, your _violence,_ will break his heart. Your love for him will devolve into loathing… in the end, _that_ is your nature."

Morgana stumbled back blindly in her distress, tripping over a rock and falling hard on her back. Staring up at the black ceiling, her mind went back, away from dragons and dreams and condolatory talks about _her nature_. Back to when it was just the two of them, their unspoken love beating between them like a conjoined heart.

"_Do you… find me repugnant, Merlin?"_

_Bright blue eyes met hers in a shocked expression from where they lay entwined under the covers, the dead of night shrouding everything but the gentle light of his eyes. His brow furrowed down at her, where she knew she must look terribly childish clinging to his chest looking up wide-eyed at him._

"_Now why, in all the stars in the sky, would you ever, _ever,_ think that?" He said softly, and relief at his denial bloomed in her chest._

"_I just…" Morgana broke off and looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze when she said what she thought. "I think, sometimes, about Uther, and his… ugliness. The anger he holds, the… violence. I think sometimes, that maybe he has instilled it in me as well."_

_A hand softly caressing her face guided her back to his, wearing an expression she almost dared to called loving, and it was in moments like these that she _knew_ that he shared her feelings. The idea both excited and terrified her, like everything about Merlin, but that was part of what she loved about him._

"_Perhaps he has."_

_Morgana froze, cut to the bone by his words. Quickly, he stumbled over himself to clarify._

"_But- I mean, that's to be expected, Morgana." Merlin said comfortingly, fingers brushing her cheekbone idly, the sensation sending lightning down her spine. "The man practically raised you; you're bound to take on some of his traits, just like Arthur. What separates the two of you from him…"_

_His other hand balled over her chest, goose bumps rising on the bare flesh he touched._

"…_is your heart. Anger, violence, there's nothing wrong with them intrinsically; it's only when they're turned on the innocent that they become repugnant." He shifted awkwardly, white teeth breaking through the dark in an embarrassed smile. "Truth be told, I've always thought you were at your most mesmerizing when cross."_

_Morgana felt a very, very stupid smile she could only pray he couldn't see split her face._

"…_Truly?"_

_A firm nod, ghostly threads of his conviction in her caressing her body like silk._

"_When you do that sort of head tilt thing, you know the one? You look kind of beautiful; and dangerous too… but in a good way!" The words rushed out quickly, desperate to head off any further misunderstandings that could hurt her. Her heart swelled at his ever-present concern for her. "Like, um, like a rainstorm, or-or a unicorn, or… well, something else, kind of, elemental…"_

_Morgana laughed at his clumsy attempts as he trailed off in discomfiture; a goofy, unrestrained laugh Uther would have smacked her for if she used it in public. As far as she was concerned, it was for his ears only._

"_You think I'm mesmerizing?" She whispered huskily._

_Bright eyes looked at her in awe, and she knew for a fact that he loved her._

"_I think you're the most entrancing force the world has ever seen."_

And there had been more flirting and comforting, and awkward blushes that made her realize he still needed time before she could at last claim him as hers, before finally they had just lit a candle and grabbed their book, reading together under the covers in half-asleep bliss. But above all else, what she had taken from that night was the realization of just why she loved him.

Merlin loved the parts of herself she hated. He called her on her faults and never backed down until she faced them, but he also forgave them, _adored_ them. Believed her darker impulses could be a force for good, and then somehow made _her_ believe the same. She was the Lady Morgana, the unofficial princess of Camelot; she had been drowned in adulation of all kinds since a young age. The people loved her for the surface she painstakingly cultivated; beauty, grace, wit, status, wealth. The people close to her loved the woman underneath, who made stupid jokes and baited her foster brother for fun and scandalized her might-as-well-be sister with lewd comments.

But it was only Merlin that loved the rest of her, the hidden ugly parts that reminded her far too much of Uther Pendragon. He saw her to her very soul, the light and the dark, and he thought it _all_ beautiful.

_He thinks I'm good._ She thought with a wide smile, a new resolve to prove him right pulsing through her.

"My nature can be used however I choose."

The dragon regarded her strangely from the corner of its massive eyes as she rose, brimming with faith for the first time since she had gone to bed last night.

"I am selfish, and angry, and yes, sometimes even homicidal. And those parts of me belong only to _him,_ do you understand?" She strode confidently towards its perturbed snout, chin held high. "They are his alone, and I will tear every inch of this world apart- every inch of _you_ apart_-_ just to be with him once more."

The Lady Morgana stopped just in front of it, glaring challengingly up at him.

"…Because, selfishly, I need him." She asserted. "And because, _selflessly,_ I love him. If my destiny is what you say it is, than I will gladly direct that terrible strength into protecting the man I love. _That_, in the end, is my _nature_."

Yet again, they stared at each other, two sides of a twisted coin. Finally, gloriously, the dragon gave the slightest bow of its great head; a concession if she ever saw one.

"Swear to me, that you will save him." It- _he_- rumbled darkly.

"I swear." She said immediately.

"And swear to me, on your _beloved's_ life, that you will release me at the time of my choosing." He said imperiously.

"Done." The dragon gave a Merlinish blink in surprise.

"My, I didn't think that would be so easy."

Morgana just smiled darkly.

"Now then… teach me how to bloody scry_."_

###

**These two are so fun together. Apologies for the lack of Merlin and Lancelot fun time, this is just how the chapter flowed. And don't worry, the Mergana reunion is incoming. ^_^  
**


	13. Mending Hearts

_Merlin met her eyes across the room, and smiled like he always had, big and dumb and so very lovingly._

"_Forever, Morgana."_

_And the sword came down._

Morgana awoke screaming in the middle of the woods, the final image of Merlin's death burning her memory like the dragon's breath she had so nearly dodged. She wrapped her flimsy blanket closer to her as if it were the chainmail she wore, desperately grasping at the scarf around her neck- her only remaining connection to him. She only removed her hands from it once the wild panic subsided, and she dropped her head into her hands with an exhausted sigh.

"This is torture…" She whispered sleepily to herself.

And it was. Without Merlin's calming presence, it seems her Sight had decided to make up for lost time. Each night it pounded urgently at her subconscious, taking her through the exact same dream, again and again. Merlin's death, again and again.

_Never, neverevereverforevermerlin-_

Morgana raised her head and took a deep breath to calm herself, the way she always had with Merlin before they had learned to control their connection, trying to pull herself out of the Sight-induced madness that always gripped her in the moments after a dream. It had been over a month since she had had to truly deal with it on a constant basis; an uncomfortable reminder to the self-reliant lady that as much as she slept by Merlin because she loved him, she truly did need him there to keep the mad future at bay.

"You keep me sane, love," she found herself chuckling wryly under the leafy dawn. "In more ways than one, I suppose…"

She stood and stretched, dusting off her rough pants lazily and strapping on her broadsword. It had only taken a few days trek to reach the Mercian border where the rumored bandit leader Hengist was held up in an abandoned castle. (_Why was it always an abandoned castle?_) In the end, she had only needed the damn dragon's scrying to learn _where_ he was; news had arrived while she was yelling in frustration at an unchanging bowl of water that Hengist had Prince Arthur captive and was holding him for ransom. Uther had actually laughed at the announcement, which had been given to him at the (very) slowly recovering Arthur's bedside. Arthur, though, had immediately realized that the bandits may have tried to pawn Merlin off as him to their leader, and demanded to lead a rescue team.

Morgana seethed as she remembered the confused dismissal from her guardian, as if he couldn't conceive of why two nobles would risk themselves and as many knights as they could for a mere peasant. As if he hadn't publicly saved Arthur's life twice.

Morgana shuddered as she remembered the strange look Uther had given her when she had begged him to mount a rescue mission, an odd combination of knowing and condemning. As if he knew everything, as if he held Merlin's life in his iron fist this instant. She clutched her sword hilt reflexively as she began to remove a ceramic bowl from her pack. She eyed the water pouring into it from her flask darkly, imagining it to be the mad king's blood flowing out of his open throat-

_Stop, Morgana._ She said to herself, in a voice that sounded wonderfully like her beloved's. _That's not who you want to be._

Morgana composed herself and knelt before the bowl, running her hands over the surface and chanting in a Celtic variant even older than the Old Tongue. It was bizarre, having this knowledge in her head; when she had asked (well, demanded) for it, she had been expecting to have to internalize a huge lecture from the dragon on the subject, had even brought paper for writing it down. Instead, the dragon had just _breathed_ on her, pure air instead of those horrid flames; on the gale came all he knew of the art, flowing into her mind as if it had always been there. Now she was suddenly a certified expert on the subject, though as she had quickly learned, _knowing_ and _doing_ are two very different things.

"Please, show me Merlin…" She entreated in English, as if somehow pleading would help. She had been able to actually scry only a few times, all of which pointed her towards first Mercia, then its border, and finally a certain ruined fortress. No matter how she begged, the accursed bowl never gave her a glimpse of her love; let her know that he was okay even if not particularly safe.

She wondered if Arthur was okay as well, if Gwen was taking care of him, and found herself remembering her last goodbye with her oldest friend.

###

"_Here, let me help you with that, my lady."_

_Morgana turned towards Gwen from where she had been unsuccessfully trying to put on her armor alone, via magic of course. She nodded gratefully as her maidservant crossed her chambers and raised nimble hands to begin properly connecting the metal the way only one who grew up in a forge could. For her part, Gwen was silent, leaving her lady to her thoughts while she thought for a way to properly say goodbye. _

_When the armor was finally latched together, Gwen paused and rested her hands against Morgana's back. Morgana shifted awkwardly but allowed the touch, remembering doing something similar to Arthur just before he set out to fight Valiant. She had dreamed his death then, and like Gwen now was consoling herself, feeling a heartbeat for perhaps the last time. Looking back Morgana almost laughed at her on-again-off-again flirtation with her foster brother, the mutual forced attempt to prepare for the inevitable marriage announcement that for some reason never came._

_It seemed strange to look back on her and Arthur's shallow, loveless lives; their future arranged marriage the closest either of them could see to ever obtaining love. Worse was Gwen's diffidence and loneliness, mourning a dead mother and departed brother, her beloved father doing his best to instill a hope that one day a good man who loved her for who she was would come sweep her off her feet._

_And then there was Merlin. Stumbling goofily into Camelot, he had destroyed their carefully constructed, ultimately hollow world with nothing but a smile. Merlin raised Arthur and Gwen out of their insecurities and repressions and led them to each other, to find the kind of true love neither of them had even thought possible._

_Of course, she could barely count the ways he had saved her. Once, she had lived in a fear so deeply hidden she didn't even know it was there. Once, she shrunk away from the idea of magic even as it resonated with her, even as she fought for sorcerers' rights. Once, she grieved endlessly for parents that left too soon and sleep she never got and a happy ending she would never receive. But then…_

I love you._ He had said, and her world was suddenly whole. It would be again._

"_You're going, aren't you?"_

_Morgana nodded and turned to face Gwen, taking her hands gently in a comforting motion._

"_Do you have to go alone?" She continued worriedly._

"_Uther won't spare anyone; believe me, I tried." Morgana said, not even surprised anymore by the king's apathy. "I know Arthur wants to go, but he can't even stand at this point…"_

_Gwen furrowed her brow in that adorable way she got when she was steeling herself, but Morgana cut her off._

"_No, Gwen, you can't come with me." She admonished, half playful and half sad. "I don't know if he'll be alright or even if I can find him… but I won't return without him. Even if it takes me years. You belong here, with Arthur."_

_Gwen dropped her head, and if Morgana had any tears left to shed she would have had to choke them back at the sight of her best friend's crushed face. Because she knew that her lady was right; Arthur was her first priority now, even above Merlin and Morgana… and Merlin was Morgana's, even above Arthur and Gwen._

"_How did this happen?" Gwen whispered sadly, and the hidden meaning in her voice was clear. It was no longer Morgana and Gwen against the world, sharing everything and thinking only of each other's wellbeing. Priorities had shifted._

"_We fell in love, Guinevere." Morgana laughed with a tearful smile, prompting one in turn from her emotional best friend. "Hey, it's okay. Even if other people come first or if I never come back… you will _always_ be my sister."_

###

Gwen had hugged her fiercely and begged her to return, and Morgana had promised between Gwen's sobs even though she honestly didn't know. Even if she saved Merlin, could she bring him back there, now that she had gone on a quest alone to save a servant she should barely know? How hard would it be for Uther to put the pieces together, and how long would it take for those suspicions to fulfill her dream?

"I will not let that happen." She vowed to the morning air, as the image of the sword coming down on that cherished face speared her once more. If anything, viewing it night after night had only increased her paranoia and relentlessness. But she knew one thing; this time, she would not lie to Merlin, _could not_ lie to Merlin, even if they couldn't be together for his own safety. So that the next time he almost died, at least he would know with his dying breath just how much in love she was with him.

At that thought, a burst of light fizzled inside the water and the image of the castle resettled into the image of a massive cage. Dirty, ill shaven reprobates jeered from all around it, while a large man with dead eyes laughed madly from a high table. And inside the cage, clashing swords furiously with another fighter…

Morgana surged forward, gripping the edges of the bowl and hovering inches above the surface.

_Merlin!_

###

Merlin was not having a very good couple of days. In fact, he was having a very bad couple of days. _In fact,_ he was royally screwed.

Why don't we make a list of how screwed Merlin is, shall we? One; the woman he desperately loved had suddenly informed him that while she very much wanted inside his trousers, she only loved him like friend, or a brother, _maybe._ Two; an ill-advised attempt at cheering him up had led him right into bandit territory; Merlin had just finished spell casting when a rather large fellow went at Arthur with a mace, so with no time to recover his energies he had simply jumped in the way and took the hit which sent him careening like a rag doll off a gorge. Three; he had been captured and sold to an big fat lunatic named Hengist who thought he was the prince of Camelot and was making him fight other crazy people in a cage while he waited for Uther to get back to him on this whole ransom thing. Also, Merlin still had what he thought was a rather severe concussion, and if he lost a battle he was might be fed to a giant rat.

_But, on the plus side, I get to catch up with Lancelot!_

…

_Okay, that seems like a pretty tiny pro next to all those cons…_

Lancelot made a clearly telegraphed lunge which allowed Merlin to duck under his sword, letting it clang loudly against the bars and make the crowed roar in protest.

"You'll have to get up earlier in the morning than that to strike down Prince Arthur, hero of Camelot!" Merlin shouted giddily, and somewhere he thought maybe all the adrenaline and blood loss and blows to the head were finally taking a toll. While the crowd booed and his opponent prepared for another strike, he heard Lancelot do a half-groan half-laugh before he slipped on his game face.

"Not so, _clotpole,"_ Lancelot said theatrically, sounding like a bad actor in a worse play, and Merlin had to fight a grin at the stolen insult. "My blade strikes true; to win back the heart of my lady, whom you have stolen so cruelly from me!"

The crowd laughed and clapped, and Merlin wondered at the abject stupidity of these braggarts. Wait, 'braggart?' _Gods, I _do _have a concussion…_

###

"_You want to _what?_" Lancelot said concernedly, as he put a hand over Merlin's head to feel the wound, clearly worrying for his sanity. The fracture was clearly healing fast, faster than a normal human heals at any rate, but luckily Hengist and his men weren't exactly physicians._

"_Fake an epic rivalry, of course!" Merlin replied cheerfully, wincing under his old friend's clumsy ministrations. "We need to give these people a show. You said Hengist feeds those who lose a fight to the wilddeorens, right? And he's putting us together because we're the best fighters he has- well, so he thinks."_

"_Don't sell yourself short, Merlin." Lancelot admonished affectionately as he began to reapply the dirty bandages that had been supplied to the 'prince.' "You're actually not that bad; years of being the prince's training partner, I presume?"_

"_More like training dummy." Merlin gave an exaggerated pout, eliciting a laugh from his friend that was all too rare these days. There was an odd glumness to Lancelot now, even before he had told him about Arthur and Gwen, and it was all wrong_. _He remembered the would-be knight as a wide-eyed, floppy haired hero, and he had mad__e it is mission to bring him back to himself. _

_(Merlin was tempted to tell him that actually, the reason he was semi-competent in a fight was because Morgana had abruptly decided to start teaching him basic fencing in her chambers. He did not, partially because thinking of Morgana hurt even more than his collapsing skull, but mostly because those stories always ended with Morgana finding some excuse to pin him down and sit on his chest __sensually__.)_

"_Anyway, they're, um, not about to let their meal ticket get eaten before Uther pays them, even if I lose, right?"_

"_Go on." Lancelot replied, clenching his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on wrapping Merlin's head._

"_And I'm not about to have you nobly throw the fight and become rat stew-" Lancelot gave him a worried look as he finished. "-or human stew for rats, I guess… I don't know, that joke didn't work out very well."_

"…_Are you quite alright, Merlin?"_

"_Well, I'm broken hearted and a bit broken brained at this point, _and have you seen the size of those rats,_ but otherwise, yeah, sky's the limit!"_

_Lancelot just patted his shoulder consolingly, which Merlin thought was a little patronizing because maybe he was babbling a little more than usual on account of the mace to the face (hey, a limerick!), but it wasn't as if he wasn't making sense or anything._

"_So, I'm thinking, if these morons want entertainment, why not give them some? Arthur and Lancelot, the legendary battle between bitter rivals, coming to a rat cage near you! And if we give it enough drama, they'll want to keep both of us alive and not rat food, at least long enough for me to recover my magic and transport us out of here."_

_Resting his dirty face in his hands briefly, Lancelot met his friends' eyes with a mischievous and concerned expression._

"…_You really _have_ been spending too much time with the Lady Morgana, you know."_

###

"Oho, looks like the grudge between you two is heating up." Hengist chortled insufferably, as both Merlin and Lancelot found themselves forced to their knees at the feet of his table after the fight. (A confused Lancelot claimed the victory after Merlin had briefly fainted mid-battle.) "I'll bet you two hated enemies were surprised to meet each other here, of all places!"

"Shocked." Merlin said half-consciously, laughing at the dancing goblet doing a jig on the table.

"Stunned." Lancelot added distractedly, trying to draw Merlin's gaze away from whatever he was hallucinating on the table.

"It can only be fate!" Merlin surmised, shooting his most Arthurish prat-face at Lancelot, who countered with his most Merlinish eye roll.

"Shyeah, right, well." Hengist said disorderly, with the air of a man desperately trying to convince the people he was talking to that he was important. "Somehow, _your highness,_ I still don't have your father's money in my pocket. Now why do you think that would be?"

Merlin faked a thoughtful look. "Well, my father _is_ a huge flutterface… nearly as much as you, actually."

###

"Did you _have_ to provoke him?" Lancelot said, agitated but relieved to see Merlin after nearly an hour apart. Merlin just stared at his friend, as he broke off worriedly from the rest of the prisoners in the dungeon and rushed over to him, and decided that yes, he was still that same wide-eyed hero, even without the floppy hair. The warlock was struggling to stay on his feet after being unceremoniously tossed back in, but he had to stand, didn't want Lancelot to see-

"S-sorry… my heads all mush…" Merlin muddled out before his legs gave out, and there was no point hiding because Lancelot was catching him, hands pressed painfully against the long marks bleeding through the remnants of his shirt. The knight errant gave a horrified gasp and pulled away to look Merlin in the eyes, hands smearing his own blood over his cheek while he steadied his face.

"Merlin- they _whipped_ you?" He bit out in a harsh whisper.

Merlin just sighed painfully, suddenly finding his voice gone. He grasped weakly at his old friend's armored shoulders as he folded against him again, barely aware enough to be embarrassed when his friend picked him up bridal style and moved him away from the other prisoners towards the patch of straw that served as a bed.

_I'm so… tired._ Since he had woken from the fall, from the blood and the rocks and Morgana's voice whispering 'but I don't love you' in his deadening ear; it had just been one more source of pain after the other. His head was perpetually pounding, his muscles ached from the fall and constant battles, and now his smart mouth (_Where did my restraint go…?) _had gotten him countless lashes criss-crossing the surface of his back. Idly he wondered if any of them would scar…

…_Will she ever want to touch me again?_

Lancelot muttered an apology and turned him onto his stomach, and Merlin hissed as the water rations he had been saving in a flask poured over his open wounds. Lancelot was silent as he worked, tearing off portions of Merlin's already ruined shirt to clean as gently as he could. Merlin expended the last of his energy to turn his head so it was resting on its side, letting him catch his old friend's eye.

"I'm sorry about Gwen."

Lancelot tried not to flinch, but failed. He only paused in his attentions for a second before going back to work with a downcast gaze and a bittersweet smile. Lancelot loved Gwen, he had come to realize, but it was a specific type of love born out of distance and struggle. She had been to him a beacon of light in the dark, a beautiful reason to keep going when your battles overwhelmed you, in the hope that maybe… _one day…_

Merlin understood that kind of love well. Morgana had been his candle long before she ever started to really see him. She was still now, even when she didn't return his feelings.

_So she says._ Inner Will replied somberly. Well, yes, speaking is generally how people communicate, unless they have a crazy magical connection-

_But you do, don't you?_ The annoying subconscious voice continued, but Merlin was grateful to have Will alive and chastising him when he needed his first friend more than ever, even if it was just a mental approximation. _You _have_ that connection, and it's totally not brotherly. And what you felt from her was _totally not_ sisterly, either._

"She wants to jump my bones…" he muttered sleepily, and only realized he had said it out loud when Lancelot shot him a scandalized look. "No- M-Morgana, not Gwen."

His friend, one of the few who knew his secret and protected it as if it were the most natural thing in the world, just nodded sadly at him. Perhaps he recognized heartbroken babbling when he saw it.

"You said Gwen is happy with him." He began finally, looking determinedly down at the lashes that he was gently bandaging with jury-rigged strips of shirt. "Then I am happy for her."

Merlin sighed, feeling some energy gradually come back to him as his magic drew life from the roots deep underground up into him; the instinctual process that had been keeping him alive since his attack. Gradually, he came back to himself, and actually took the time to compose his next sentence before he let it fly out of his cracked lips.

"You can't be so noble all the time, y'know… you deserve to be happy, too." He said weakly; irrationally proud that he had accomplished coherency once again. Lancelot gave an undignified snort as he finished bandaging Merlin, before turning to sit facing the other prisoners with his sword resting warningly on his lap.

"This coming from the man who says he pushed his love away for her own good." He said, teasingly rather than sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood somehow. It wasn't working, but Merlin deeply appreciated it all the same. "You never told me what actually happened there...?"

Merlin smiled ruefully, recognizing the attempt to distract him for what it was. He spared a glance at the others in the dungeon, huddled far in the opposite corner sparing worried looks at the fierce looking knight glaring balefully at them.

"Morgana… she said she doesn't love me." He admitted, the words blistering as they left his mouth. Lancelot spared him a surprised glance over his shoulder, which quickly became sympathetic before he went back to his self-imposed guard duty. Merlin swallowed, before confessing the hidden thought he'd been too scared of hoping to acknowledge. "But I think that she might be lying."

Lancelot popped a crick in his neck absent-mindedly, not missing the way the dangerous prisoners flinched from across the cell; they had all seen what the gentle looking man could do in a fight.

"Do you think that, or do you only _hope_ it?" He asked softly after a moment. Merlin considered the question in his mind.

"There are- _oof-_ other factors, you know?" The warlock began as he waved off his friends' worried look and pushed himself up and onto his haunches, feeling strength trickle back to him from his magic working overtime to repair the new damage. "She-um- I think she may be protecting me, like I was trying to protect her."

Merlin neglected to tell him of the dream or even of her magic, because while Merlin trusted Lancelot implicitly, nobody was going learn anything Morgana trusted him with unless she told them herself. But he still had his suspicions about her dream- the one she wouldn't tell him about- and her comment about getting him killed.

"…By denying her affections for you?" Lancelot asked.

"But the thing is… maybe I am just hoping. Because I thought… all those things she said-" Merlin broke off under Lancelot's gaze, trying to hold back the tears welling up. He hadn't let himself cry since he had woken up, and if he started now he'd never stop. He had loved her from afar since the moment he laid eyes on her, even when he didn't know it, but the idea that she could ever love _him_ was off limits to him. Because he was Merlin, the liar, the killer, the boy who thrived in the shadows and murdered a woman in a fit of cold hard _hate_…

And she was Morgana; the light to his darkness, the love to his hatred.

"I helped her, and she was grateful. And, well, she thinks I'm pretty attractive, believe it or not." He began sheepishly, and Lancelot gave him an encouraging smile as he began to finally open up. "She's a bit materialistic, likes to have power… and I'm a bit powerful."

"More than a bit." Lancelot said gently. "So you think she wanted you for your magic, or your body, or just wanted to repay you?"

"Of course I did. She's so… and _I'm so…"_ Merlin broke off and brushed at his eyes, because this was_ stupid_ and he was acting like a twelve-year-old. "…but when I tried to confront her, she said she was in _love _with me. And, Lancelot, she actually convinced me. But then I pushed her away to keep her safe, a-and before I knew it suddenly she's trying to convince _me_ that she only loves me as…"

"…A brother?" Lancelot said empathetically, wincing at Merlin's nod. Silence fell between them once more, while the knight looked pointedly away so Merlin could try and compose himself. When it looked like he probably wasn't going to, Lancelot gave him a searching gaze and began to speak softly.

"Merlin, why did you push her away?"

"To protect her, I told you." Merlin replied with a confused look, while Lancelot just shook his head.

"If you truly wanted to protect her from the king at all costs, you would never have begun this dalliance in the first place." The sorcerer pulled back slightly, _that's not true…_

_Of course it is._ Inner Will replied cheerfully, mentally clapping Lancelot on the back for being the voice of the reason so he didn't have to. Merlin shut himself up quickly, wondering what his friend was hinting at, while Lancelot held his gaze as long as he could before finally just shrugging.

"Merlin, I can't pretend to know why you feel you can't be with the Lady Morgana, but I do know this; once, I had a chance at love. But I turned my back on it, because I deemed myself unworthy of knighthood- no, unworthy of _Gwen_." He dropped his gaze sorrowfully. "And now she's gone. So please… don't make my mistake."

"GET YOUR TINY ASS IN THERE!"

Merlin flinched, the tender moment broken harshly, as the iron doors slammed open and a small armored form tumbled inside. The figure made a rude gesture at the retreating guards before turning to scan the prisoners with a mismatched helmet, looking like it had been stolen from one of the bandits. His breath caught as he felt familiar tendrils reaching out experimentally, his own magic instantly extending and entangling with hers.

Their eyes met across the room, and she hastily threw off her helmet, shaking out lustrous black hair and locking her tearful gaze with his. She was haggard, dirty, and terrified for him; she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A single thought from each clawed its way up their combined magics desperately;

"…_Morgana?"_

"…_Merlin!"_

He wasn't aware of Lancelot's gasp or the prisoner's jeers or the sudden surge of energy in his broken body or even of crossing the room. All he knew was that, suddenly, Morgana was in his arms again, the way it should be, lips crashing into his desperately. They kissed fiercely, clinging to each other hard as they both cried involuntarily, days of pent up fear and relief pouring out of them. Merlin finally pulled away to gaze into eyes the color of mint, brimming with tears for what they had done to him. He grinned.

"I'm home, my love."

###

**AGH!  
**

**See, this is what I get when I write all of Merlin's POV from this arc in one chapter instead of disseminating them in several like with Morgana. God, this one was difficult to get down on paper (well, on the screen), and draining as all hell to write... maybe it's just the subject matter. Never writing something like this again! On the plus side, I finally get why people love to write Merlin whumpage... hurt/comfort is so much fun to write. ^_^**

**Lancelot is an interesting guy. His love for Gwen seems sort of shallow on the surface, since they've honestly only barely met when he left, and suddenly they meet up again in 2x04 and are all "I'll love you forever!" C'mon, now. But really, I see it as sort of a co-dependent love; he goes out into the world to be a knightly hero, fails and becomes very disillusioned, and begins to hold Gwen aloft as the one truly good and true thing in the world. He was kind of world weary when we see him in 2x04, at least until Gwen says she loves him, so I wanted to explore that bittersweet side of him in a world where he doesn't have her for even this short time, and knows he never will. His friendship with Merlin is a bit hard to peg, but I settled on what separates him from Arthur's or Gwaine's is that his introversion and sort of deadpan attitude forces Merlin to be more extroverted than he would be with his other guy friends. Creates an interesting angle on our young sorcerer. -_-  
**

**This is a bit of a weird chapter, by virtue of that so much of it follows an emotionally and physically exhausted character with a major head injury. (I knew I needed to have him seriously injured to keep him from just destroying the entire castle.) I wanted to demonstrate how he's been handling the last few days by showcasing both the goofy trickster who makes stupid plans and the weary sorcerer with too much on his plate, with each taken up to eleven thanks to the circumstances. If our first arc followed Morgana's mood swings and near breakdown, than this chapter is sort of a distilled version of that for Merlin, at least in theory. It's slightly experimental and a bit forced, since again I tried to compress it all into one chapter for maximum effect and I'm not sure how I did. Um, so, I hope you all liked it and that it wasn't too long for you. :(**

**The angst is almost done, yaaay! :D  
**

**Next Time: Merlin is hurt and Morgana**** is going _nuclear._ Run, Hengist, run!  
**


	14. The Wrath of God

It was the most cunning scheme Morgana had ever schemed.

The best part was, of course, that it didn't require lying to him. She had looked into his eyes inches from her own, so close she could pull him into a much too early kiss, and told him that she needed him to stay with her tonight because he calmed her wild magic; because he kept her safe. And it was entirely true, it just wasn't the whole reason she wanted him in her bed. While he kept her safe from the nightmares and the fires, he also grew more and more used to being intimate with her, even if just in this way. She didn't have to break down the walls lining his heart; she would simply sleep against them with her own wide open, and wait for him to let them down of his own volition.

What she hadn't counted on, _should have_ counted on, was just how attached she would get to the feel of his body around hers. For long hours she would fake sleep just to catalog every sinewy curve of his perfect body, to feel each beat of the magical tide lapping against her unconsciously, like the sea crashing against the shore. The way their arms fit around each others backs, how their legs entwined chaotically, that perfect crook in his neck that fit her face just right and the feel of his own buried in her hair and taking in her scent with each breath. They were made for each other, even on the most basic level. And when he was gone, when she had to sleep alone and practice magic without his loving presence beside her, his absence was like death by degrees.

"I'm home, my love."

Morgana released her hold on him only to cup that beloved face, all filthy and stubbly and bruised and _so intensely striking,_ and felt herself come back to life.

"So am I, my love." She said tearfully, nearly exploding with warmth at his joyous smile when she finally admitted it.

And then he collapsed against her with a groan and blood was seeping into her hands through bandaged wounds on his back, the echo of his entire body screaming in agony resonating through their connection, and she remembered where they were.

"M-Merlin!" She said in horror as she struggled to keep his dead weight upright; her love mumbled incoherently against her shoulder, like he had countless times just before falling asleep… this time, it wasn't so cute.

The other prisoners, shady and ill groomed, were leering at her in a way that made her skin crawl, some actually beginning to move forward. She clutched Merlin tighter and stumbled back fearfully; how many could she fight off on her own, even with magic, before they… before they-

CLANG!

Every face in the dungeon jumped nearly ten feet at the sword banging against the wall, and the fearsome knight that wielded it. Warningly he lowered its tip to the ground where he stood between her and them, dragging sparks across the stone as he drew a proverbial line in the sand they knew not to cross. She almost smirked in satisfaction as the vile group almost trampled each other in their haste to get back to their side of the dungeon.

"Is he alright?" And then the knight was rushing over fearfully, and while Morgana knew he had just saved them and looked very familiar for some reason, she saw his weapon and couldn't stop her paranoia taking over.

"_Forbaern yfel!"_ She hollered, seeing him jump back just before he walked into the circle of fire that erupted around of him. Every voice in the prison _screamed_ and while she thought that it may not have been smart to reveal her secret to a room full of strangers, at least they wouldn't go near them now. The man in question stared at her with wide brown eyes on the other side of the fire, before to her surprise they melted into an understanding look.

"Ah, _now_ I get it." He said with an appraising smile.

Morgana frowned at him in confusion, and almost would have asked what the stranger meant if it weren't for needing every inch of herself concentrating on keeping the fire ring burning. She felt sweat break out on her grimy forehead as her feet gave out and she collapsed against the back wall, holding him in her lap protectively. The fire flickered momentarily and she knew she didn't have long, wasn't accustomed to perpetual magic of this nature yet, would lose it and they would die- _he would die-_

"Mrgna…" The mumble and a weak hand caressing her face brought her back to Earth, to _him._ She looked down worriedly at him, peeking out carefully beneath the faded bandages sitting on an angle on his head. He drew in a breath and laughed shakily from cracked lips. "It's Lancelot, Morgana."

_Lancelot?_ Morgana shot up to look at the knight in question, still standing respectfully where the fire had been before she had broken her focus, and peered at him. His hair was shorter and the beginnings of a beard cloaked his boyish face, but it was him, the peasant knight who had sent the court into such a tizzy. One of the too few in the world who knew and protected Merlin's secret.

"M-my apologies, good knight." Morgana felt herself deflate in both embarrassment and relief.

"Quite alright." Lancelot replied good-naturedly, gesturing with his blade to the terrified crowd huddled in the very far corner. "Keeps them in line better than a sword and a glare, I'll give you that. Now, be gentle with him."

Morgana returned her attention back to her love, returning his loving smile and caressing his cheek with a feather-light touch. Lancelot dropped to his haunches before them, sharing her concern, and she found herself choking on gratitude that they didn't have to go through this alone.

"Oh, what did they do to you?" She whispered brokenly down at him. Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but no sound came out so he just closed it again disappointedly. Lancelot answered in his stead.

"We believe he may have a concussion, several torn muscles, and some cracked bones from the fall he took." He said grievously, wincing at Morgana's horrified- and undignified- squeak. From the clinical tone he was probably parroting Merlin's diagnosis; impromptu medical training at its finest. "And he's been fighting nearly non-stop for the last three days… but they've been in staged fights with me, so that he would never be in any actual danger."

Morgana shook her head mournfully, because she had vowed to finally _stop crying_ and stay together for his sake, but his head was now rolling around on his neck sightlessly. Guttural sounds briefly exited his mouth like a wounded animal- like a _dying_ animal- before she couldn't take it anymore. She shut him up with an impulsive kiss, working life and magic into him as she moved her lips against his longingly. When she pulled apart she was gratified to see him semi-coherent and quiet, and if the situation were less dire she would feel very smug at the thoroughly snogged look he wore.

"What aren't you telling me, Sir Lancelot?" She began quietly, after a moment in which she again watched Merlin fall unconscious from his injuries. The knight in question started at her usage of his lost title, which as far as she was concerned he had just earned back in full, before throwing an apologetic look at Merlin's sleeping face.

"…They whipped him, my lady."

…

Even as exhausted as she was, she couldn't stop her raw furious magic from ramming a spider-web of cracks into the stone behind her.

"_THEY DID __**WHAT?**_"

###

It was the most obvious trap Merlin had ever walked into.

The worst part was, of course, that he had a very hard time _not_ wanting to walk into the trap. It was clear that she wanted him, physically at least, a fact which he really wanted to rub in the face of every girl who had ever mocked his ears. And plainly, sleeping beside her gave her the comfort and safety that she was desperate for, the late night conversations about her guilt and insecurities that she sometimes started just so that he could confirm again his absolute faith in her. Morgana wasn't exactly lacking in confidence in her beauty, but it still made her happy to have it confirmed every so often that she was desired, when they woke up entangled a little too close and his body, ah, _reacted._ At least, judging by the very pleased looks she would throw at him the rest of day…

There were so many reasons that she would want to wake up to him, none of which involved love; so many different ways for Merlin to excuse the light in her eyes when she looked at him, the possessiveness and tenderness in her caress. He fought as hard as he could, railed against what she was doing to him, because if he actually indulged in the impossible idea of waking up to her for the rest of his life, it would end up crushing him. And he had held to that up until the day she taught him to let go of his fear and _know_ that she loved him; wonderfully, _impossibly._ And he had regretted that fiercely when she taught him that he was right all along, and hated how easy it was all of sudden to find reasons that she _did_ love him.

"…How convinced are you that your plan will work?"

"Well, it's better than you and Merlin's fake rivalry 'plan'."

"W-well I thought it was a great plan…"

"Are you kidding me? It's the worst plan he's ever come up with!"

It had been three days since he had last woken up to Morgana, opening his eyes to see her bantering worriedly with Lancelot above him to distract her from her obvious anxiety, and it felt like learning to breathe again.

"I think Dragoon the Great might have been worse." Merlin rasped teasingly, making her jump in surprise and look down wide-eyed at him in her lap. He smilingly met her tearful gaze, feeling the immense relief at his awakening thrum through her magic, and lifted a hand to play with the dirty silken scarf around her neck.

"_You do love me."_ He drawled smugly, in her head for privacy's sake, eliciting a surprised laugh from her.

"_Of _course_ I do."_ Morgana whispered back into his own mind, her face falling into a devastated expression he never wanted to see on her again. _"Merlin, I am _so sorry_, I never meant those awful things I said. I don't know how you can forgive me-"_

"_Shush, dear."_ He cut her off playfully, drew some strength from the roots beneath the ground to slip a hand behind her long neck, and drag her down into a hard kiss. He felt her surprise at him taking the initiative like this for first time, before she melted against him and returned it, lowering all remaining walls between them. Together they gently kneaded away all the exhaustion, pain, worry, and loss they had inflicted; until all that was left was a steady promise to each other burning brightly at the heart of the magic they shared.

"Erm, not to break this up, but…"

Merlin laughed dryly at the abject frustration pulsing from Morgana towards Lancelot's timid interruption, a sideways glance showing him struggling between amused and scandalized. Merlin gave his lady- because that's what she was- one last loving nip before she carefully helped him into a sitting position against the wall beside her. He stretched and rolled his magic inside of himself experimentally, feeling his open wounds knitting together and his fatigue fading, all thanks to the chain reaction she always had on his magic. An almost bashful glance from her showed a similar rejuvenation, giving him the wild urge to laugh at the shyness only he could draw from her.

"My head feels… _great._" Merlin exclaimed, fumbling with his head wrap in an attempt to get it off. "Er, what happened?"

Morgana blushed adorably beside him, while Lancelot just gestured towards her.

"She cast some sort of spell, said it would heal skull fractures."

Merlin grinned, bumping shoulders with her impishly. "I have a lot to thank you for then, don't I?" He felt his face fall, as a thought occurred to him and at the reticent look she was trying to hide. "I don't remember anything like that in the spell book…"

"We-we can catch up later!" Morgana proclaimed nervously, trying to get the conversation back on track. "Right now, our focus should be on getting you out of here. Luckily, my plan has already begun…"

"Wait, what plan?" Merlin spared a look at Lancelot, who just grimaced nervously.

And that was when a chorus of screams exploded from above the dungeons.

"Ah, that would be our distraction!" Morgana said cheerfully, the effect of which was offset by her evil grin.

###

With a loud clang, the iron doors of the dungeon fell off their hinges, revealing two pairs of glowing eyes and outstretched hands, the other pair linked between them. Morgana drew her broadsword alongside Merlin and Lancelot as they walked over the downed door and headed for the now unguarded entrance.

Oh, how she had missed this. Her and Merlin, side by side once more, their magic mixing together into a force stronger than either of them alone, their hands fitting perfectly together. This was how she knew she would spend the rest of her life with this man.

"You broke the lock on the cage keeping the giant rats from getting into the castle?" Merlin said again, looking half horrified, half impressed with her. She nodded and threw out an arm to stop Lancelot from stepping into the next corridor, as a massive rodent chased a bandit through the doors.

"I realized we would need a decent cover for our escape, and I found out that the castle was built over a wilddeoren nest, so…" She trailed off as she peeked her head around the next corner cautiously, his hand still in her vice grip. If she could help it, she was never letting go of it again.

"And how did you find that out?" Lancelot asked as he parried the clumsy blow from a guard bursting from the side-doors. It was all the opening Morgana needed to sweep past his defenses and decapitate him before he got anywhere near Merlin, channeling into the swing all her fury at each mark they had put on him.

"Well, that's how I came in." She finished casually, taking Merlin's hands again cheerfully and ignoring his shocked look at the blood draping her front. Said look quickly melted into a infuriated one as they continued on through the chaos.

"Wait, you came in _through the man-eating rats nest?"_ Came the wince-inducing shout at her side, as she dully registered Lancelot getting into another scuffle behind them while she and Merlin began another of those couple-y fights she enjoyed so much. "You- you could have been _eaten,_ Morgana!"

She just flashed him that particular roguish smile she had learned set his blood on fire, and sure enough felt his anger and concern reaching a fever pitch. (Lancelot was busy kicking a man off the end of his sword and throwing a stolen axe at another.)

"Oh, Gods, you really need to learn to stay out of trouble, don't you?" He muttered half-jokingly, earning a mock scornful look from her while their companion jogged to catch up.

"S-sorry, what are we talking about?" Lancelot huffed as he slowed to a power walk beside them, ineffectually trying to wipe off the blood on his chainmail. Morgana thought he would be much happier if he just wore it proudly the way she does. (And it helps discourage potential attackers, too.)

"Morgana's lack of concern for her own wellbeing." Her love said petulantly. (She was proved right when a bandit rounded the corner, slid his eyes down to her gore splattered armor, and promptly ran the opposite direction.)

"Says the walking punching bag!" The lady shot back, but the coyness in her voice fell when he stumbled. Instantly she was at his side, feeling the many welts under the stained bandages made from his shirt, not to mention the long lashes down his back.

"Merlin…?" Lancelot asked when it became clear that she could no longer voice her overwhelming concern for him, but he just shook his head with forced good nature.

"Tis only a flesh wound." He quipped with that annoying little chuckle when he had made a bad joke no one else understood. (How in love she must be to have missed his most aggravating qualities…) He ran a shaking hand up her spine in a soft gesture, quelling her anxiety and rage in an instant, before limping onwards.

("PRISON BREAK!" Shouted an outraged guard towards his compatriots as he pointed at them, and looking crestfallen as the rest of his group just kept running from the charging beasts.)

Morgana stared after him for a moment, at the long marks beginning to bleed through the covers on his back. How could anyone hurt this gentle man, how could anyone _torture_ him? Didn't they know who they were dealing with, how devastating his vengeance would be were he a lesser man? If he hadn't just smiled and brunt it, the way he brunt being treated as a slave and a second-class citizen, this whole castle would be so much _ash_.

("_Swefe nu." _Merlin incanted casually without breaking stride, sending the aforementioned guard- preparing to attack alone- falling stiffly into a deep sleep.)

But he never would, and while she adored his dark side, _that_ was why she truly loved him. Because unlike her, when he was struck he didn't strike back just to even the score. Even though, sometimes, she wished he _would_ just use that sublime power to crush monsters like Hengist before they could harm him. If only he would think of himself for once…

_But then, I guess that's why he has me._ Morgana vowed. _I suppose I'll have to avenge him myself._

With a last regretful look at her love nonchalantly throwing a wilddeoren across the room like a ragdoll, she slipped away.

###

It hadn't taken long to find him, held up in the formerly grand throne room which was now in disrepair. Morgana had already performed a draining but comprehensive scrying of everyone and everything in the castle before the rescue, so it wasn't hard to assume where the obviously egotistical man would make his last stand. She had had so many shallow suitors like him, led around by their basic instincts, before Merlin showed her what love truly meant.

"_I can read your every move, Hengist."_ She whispered into his mind threateningly.

Hengist gave a rather girlish yelp as she knocked the throne room doors off their hinges with the flung corpse of a wilddeoren, taking a page from her lover's book. He ducked- _Surprisingly nimble-_ under the creature as it sailed over his head and broke off the top of the lustrous seat.

"Wh-who are ya?" He snarled as he staggered to his feet and brandished a hefty axe nearly the size of her entire body. "I-I haven't done anything to offend your kind!"

Morgana laughed derisively, sauntering through the doorway with her bloodied sword dragging carelessly on the floor. She could feel the odd little tingle that signified her eyes shining, felt the air crackle with invisible power around her, and in his fearful gaze knew for the first time that she was powerful and _terrifying_.

_So this is what the dragon was talking about…_

Her silence must have spooked him more than anything else, because suddenly he was lunging at her with the massive weapon. Morgana felt herself slow time the way Merlin did, grasping shades of his magic inside of her just long enough to give her time to duck under the wild swing and move in to skewer the foul man. He w_as_ nimble, though, for such a large man, dancing out of the way and managing to bash her with his elbow while he passed.

Morgana snarled and swirled towards him, drawing blood from his oversized belly before harshly kicking the wound she had just inflicted as he went for another strike. The barbarian grunted in pain and stumbled back from her, but she pressed the advantage and _threw_ her blade with a mystical force. She couldn't stop her grin at Hengist's scream as her sword ran through his left shoulder and embedded itself into the table, pinning him there. He moaned pitifully, bent over so that he was half-laying where the sword jutted out of him and the wood.

"The bigger they are, the harder… well, you know how it goes." She taunted mercilessly as she approached.

"B-bitch!" Hengist threw a clumsy attempt at a one handed swing her way, looking pitifully slow even without affecting the flow of time.

"_Astrice!"_ She shouted with a hard point at the axe in question, laughing at his whimper as an invisible force shattered the giant blade like glass. Shrapnel flew everywhere, some embedding themselves into him, but all knowing to steer clear of her. She moseyed to the other side of table, idly playing with a pointier shard.

"You know, I've been a bit frustrated since I began practicing magic." Hengist made to grab her with his good arm when she leaned over her side to look him in the eyes, prompting her to stab the shard through his forearm and into the table for good measure. (_I really shouldn't love that sound he made so much…)_ "Can you believe it's only been about a month and a half since I started?"

Hengist just glared up at her, trying to turn his fear into anger, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming.

"What's frustrating is that no matter how much I learn, I can't seem to do much with it." Morgana pouted theatrically. "Why, just a few mornings ago I only just lit my first fire! But I've realized, these past few days, what the key to spellcasting is. Would you like to know?"

Hengist remained deathly silent, a pool of blood now leaking out from under him. She tilted her head into _that_ look- Merlin's "beautiful and dangerous" look- which after a moment got him to nod fearfully.

"It's love, Hengist." She laughed brightly as his handlebar mustache twitched in confusion. (And pain, presumably.) "Magic feeds off emotion, and there's nothing stronger than love. That's why I can hurt you so easily now… and that's why _he's_ so powerful."

Morgana caressed the side of his red face mockingly, smiling as he tried to hide a flinch.

"He loves the whole world, harder than anyone alive, and that makes him _unstoppable."_ She turned the touch into a hard grasp. "But he also hides from his hatred, too, doesn't want to hurt anyone. So he lets people run all over him- _torture him-_ without paying them back. Well, today I'm giving you your dues; so all I want to know is… _did you whip the man you call Arthur Pendragon?"_

Considering the circumstances, she really should have been prepared for him to spat in her eye.

"You're damn right I did, you filthy little witch, and he _squealed like a pig!"_ The savage laughed harshly, and she finally realized that it _was_ possible to hate someone more than Uther or the Great Dragon. "And I'd have had him eaten alive if I'd known he wasn't the damn prince, and I would've enjoyed watching it!"

"Bastard!" She snarled, in an irrational rage, and turned for a split second to grab a ceremonial mace off the wall-

Which was all the distraction he needed.

Morgana screamed as her own broadsword plunged into her side. Hengist, surprisingly nimble as she had foolishly forgotten, had torn his entire body off the embedded blades, pulled out her sword, and skewered her with it in one smooth motion. An ugly laugh slipped out of his hairy mouth from behind her as she collapsed against him involuntarily.

"Those 'er some nice tricks, but I haven't lived this long in the wild without bein' resilient." He snarled, bloodied hands trailing all over her and no- _no,_ this couldn't happen. "Heh, you're quite beautiful under all this…"

She bucked against him uselessly, crying out in agony as the movement jostled the sword still buried in her. With a shout he pulled it out of her and threw her to the ground, looming over her dangerously.

"_C-cume her fyb-byrne!"_ She stumbled between painful gasps, but the line of fire traveling across the ground to immolate him fizzled and died along with her concentration. Agony was lacing threw her, her magic sparking uncontrollably inside her as she fought past the pain to find her center, to find her Merlin, _but he was on top of her now and she couldn't fight and-_

_This can't be happening!_ She screamed as fat fingers batted away the feeble fires she started and tried to tear off her chainmail, as rough lips moved greedily towards her, and then-

All air was sucked out of the room, and the temperature dropped in an instant like early winter. A terrible gaze centered on them, and Hengist slowly pulled away from her at the sheer ancient _rage_ filling the room. They met each other's eyes, for this one instant no longer attacker and victim but two equally tiny ants standing before a storm; as one they turned their heads towards the door.

Merlin stood in the fading light of day, the abject horror on his face at what this monster was trying to do to her quickly melting into an icy wrath she had never seen before. An unnatural wind began to ruffle his hair, and wide eyes were completely engulfed by a golden glow.

"You should not have touched her." He whispered menacingly, tilting his head at Hengist like a snake surveying a mouse. In this instance… he looked like _God himself._

And then he swung his arm and Hengist and the entire castle wall was sent exploding out into the sky. The terrible man's scream echoed amongst the rubble as he was flung up into the clouds with all the force of a catapult. Morgana's terrified eyes followed the little black dot in the distance as it dropped to its death miles away.

Just like that, it was over.

"Morgana!" The loving voice was almost breaking with panic as Merlin rushed to her side, embracing her carefully to mind both their injuries. She returned it instinctually, her mind unable to process the alien being that had just thrown someone across the forest with the gentle man worriedly looking her over, asking if he had done anything to her.

"N-no, you stopped him…" Morgana heard herself say blankly, trying not to wince as Merlin looked suddenly ashamed at her tone, as if just remembering what he had done. His eyes lingered on the open sky that was formerly hidden by a whole wall, before he was brought back to her when she cried out.

"Oh, no…" He mumbled, noticing the deep wound in her side for the first time.

"T-tis only a flesh wound." She offered feebly, feeling pride at the weak smile she drew from him. Because this _was_ her Merlin, she realized, terrible power and stupid jokes all, and she would be foolish to be afraid of him. Carefully long-fingers splayed over her open wound and eyes glowed that beautiful gold; she sucked in a breath as a riptide of magic pulsed from him to her, knitting together broken flesh and muscle with each passing second.

Merlin breathed out tiredly when he was done, smiling proudly at the unmarked skin of her stomach where once there had been a grievous injury. Morgana returned it, cradling his exhausted face between her hands and capturing cracked lips with her own. She felt the lingering horror at what he had just done while he was trying to bury it, and gently caught his guilt with a soothing caress.

"_I'm not scared, Merlin._" She spoke lovingly into him._ "I only love you more."_

Merlin broke the kiss with another of those heartbreaking feeble smiles, a thousand 'thank yous' and 'I'm sorrys' in the hand ghosting over her cheek. She knew they would need to talk, about what happened, about what _almost_ happened, but for the time being…

"Can we go home now?" She bit out petulantly. Merlin's smile turned genuine and they staggered to their feet to go find Lancelot.

###

**A very dark climax to an very angsty arc. -_-  
**

**Another strange chapter; I wanted to mesh the joy of the reunion with the sense that these two have been very battered, physically and emotionally, in the last few days. It then segued into Morgana exploring her new creed of using her dark side to protect Merlin, and _then_ segued again into a short demonstration of _Merlin's_ dark side protecting Morgana. The line Merlin walks between sweetest guy in the universe and merciless killer is a really interesting one, something canon doesn't delve into much aside from the way he killed Nimueh. There's a very scary guy lurking under that smile, waiting to come out when the people he love are in imminent danger. Just like there's a very scary woman smirking beneath Morgana, just waiting for the next person who thinks they can screw with her family. There's a fascinating parallel between the worse parts of themselves which I think is kind of ****weirdly ****beautiful. Somehow, the 2x04 arc ended up being about the lengths one will go to for the person they love, which is funny because I just set out to have Mergana separated for a bit so that they could get some perspective from Lancelot/Kilgarrah on themselves and each other. Didn't think it would get this... epic. O_o  
**

**The good news is, the angst is over! We can only go up from here. (Theoretically.) I hope you'll all stick around to see our couple climb out of the dark, together. ^_^  
**

**Next Time: The Talk. With a capital 'T'. The time has finally come...**


	15. Seal the Deal

Lancelot jumped as he rounded the tree trunk to find Merlin casually leaning up against it in only his trousers, taking a bite from an apple.

"…I thought for sure I had snuck away without waking you." His old friend said with that self-deprecating smile he seemed to wear constantly these days. Clearly, Lancelot was not as surprised as he should have been by Merlin's frankly fantastic entrance, which was a shame because Merlin had ran really hard to get ahead of him in time.

"Er, you did." Merlin found himself admitting with a flush. "You're talking to Mister Oblivious, over here."

"The Lady Morgana heard me leaving and woke you?" Lancelot asked, giving him that knowing look he always did each night Morgana forcefully dragged him under her blanket for another night of cuddling under the stars. There hadn't been much more, sadly, as Lancelot was right there and they weren't sure they could stop anything they started.

"She suspected you might try to vanish into thin air one morning, yeah." Merlin replied, and Lancelot shifted uneasily.

"My apologies, Merlin; I'm just not…" He trailed off uncertainly, and Merlin felt a flash of sympathy and found his hand moving to his shoulder companionably.

"…good at goodbyes, I know." He finished for him, accepting Lancelot's grateful smile in return. They turned to look out across the midmorning sky, leaning back together against the bark, and let a quiet moment pass.

It had barely been four days since their disaster of a prison break, and since then it had been nonstop hiking across the Mercian border back into Camelot. There were almost no sign of the worst of Merlin's injuries, which he mainly owed to Morgana's superb work. The lady was born to be a healer and from her gratified smile she knew it, the complex spells falling from her fingers to his wounds like water droplets. Even he had never been able to get healing magic to work as well as she could. He couldn't stop the overwhelming pride that came at how far she had come already; the fact that she was actually his superior in some way magically just made him excited that _she_ could now teach _him._

Merlin felt a frown cross his face. But Morgana had also been withdrawn since Hengist, rarely laughing or flirting or even talking about anything that actually mattered. Any attempt at having that serious conversation they needed to have was deflected masterfully, and her brow was almost constantly furrowed into that adorable look she got when she was thinking deeply. Merlin fought hard with the doubts rising up the last four days; had she changed her mind, was she scared of him, could she not love him after what he had done? But each time, as if reading his mind (without actually doing so), Morgana would rush to him with an embrace, whispering 'I love yous' into his ear and mind and magic until he had no choice but to believe her.

No matter how reserved she was with him now, when night fell Morgana always beckoned him to sleep against her, giving him tired smiles and an almost reverent touch, as if she couldn't believe he was still alive. Neither could he, for that matter.

With that idea out of the way, the list for 'Reasons my girlfriend isn't talking to me' was down to; one, that terrible dream she was still keeping shut about; two, something else that had happened to her while he was gone (he still didn't know where she had gotten that head-healing spell…); or three, what Hengist had tried to do to her.

"Merlin, you've set another tree on fire." Lancelot pointed out dully.

Merlin gave him a nonplussed look before smelling the smoke from above him and, okay, yes, he had set another tree on fire. It wasn't his fault, really; every time he thought about the events at the ruined old castle, the whips and the fights and Morgana stabbed and struggling under that monster-

"_Mer_lin!" Lancelot exclaimed in perfect Arthur fashion, as the flaming leaves flared brighter.

"O-oh, right, hang on!" Merlin said, tossing him the half-eaten apple and shaking out his sleeves. He brought his hands together in a hard clap, wiling the wild charm feeding the flames to disperse and snuff them out before a forest fire began. Immediately they were left with the smell of burnt leaves as the only sign of his loss of control.

"...You and your tricks." Lancelot said nostalgically, making sure to swallow the rind in his mouth before speaking, minding his manners the way Merlin could never be bothered to. Another still moment passed between them, the sun rising fully between them, before Lancelot spoke again. "She loves you quite a bit."

Merlin felt a true smile split his face.

"Yeah, I know." Because he _did_ know, couldn't deny it when he had felt what she held for him as if the feelings were his own. That didn't mean he understood _why_ someone as amazing as her would love someone as boring as him, but he accepted it all the same. His smile fell a little. "She's been… distant…"

"I believe that must stem from whatever happened with that swine Hengist." Lancelot said, his pleasant voice twisting severely around the bandit's name for reasons Merlin entirely understood. "What exactly happened there, Merlin?"

Merlin closed his eyes involuntarily against the images, his love trapped screaming beneath a dirty and bloody wall of a man, trying to rip her armor off like a greedy noble child unwrapping a present. Even the _memory_ of what he had tried to do to her threatened to bring back that horrible chill, the blank fury that had allowed him to kill Hengist like the animal that he was. Merlin had thought that nothing could be worse than what he had felt towards Nimueh… and now understood just how wrong he had been.

"I meant what I said yesterday, Lance," Merlin blurted out, grateful to see Lancelot accept his brisk changing of topic. "We would love to have you at Camelot. Arthur nearly convinced the king to knight you last time, surely now that you've returned his wayward ward he will-"

"No!" Lancelot bit out harshly, and Merlin blinked in surprise at the forcefulness of his tone. His friend seemed to regret it, as he softened his voice and gave a sad smile. "_No,_ Merlin, but thank you."

Merlin opened his mouth to protest, to say something to get his friend to reconsider, but found nothing to put into words. If Morgana had truly not loved him, he realized, and taken up with another man that she _did_ love right in front of him… could he survive seeing that? _Living_ with that?

The answer was a very hard 'no.'

Merlin took a deep breath and returned Lancelot's sad smile, sharing an unspoken resolve to just let each other go.

"Where will you go?" Merlin almost whispered.

"…I think, perhaps, that I have been wandering for too long." Lancelot replied after finishing off the apple and thinking hard for a moment. "Since my home… my parents… were taken from me so brutally, I have lived in search of the valor I couldn't show against those raiders."

"You were only a _child_, Lancelot." Merlin censured gently, even as he knew it would do no good. Survivor's guilt was something he still struggled with; Will's last moments and the pyre in the square glared out at him accusingly from within his memory.

"Still," Lancelot replied with a sad shake of his head, as he unhooked his scabbard from his belt and held it up to give it an appraising look. "Since the day that I lost everything, I've lived by the sword. Fighting nonstop, helping those I could, dreaming of being a knight so that one day I could save another's parents where I couldn't save mine. But, perhaps all this time, in my heart, I've only been just fighting those raiders. Perhaps all I was looking for was…"

"…A purpose?" Merlin finished for him, and returned Lancelot's grateful nod. Because he also knew what that felt like too, was probably why the dragon's talk of destiny and coins affected him so much. Lancelot sighed and stepped closer, offering the old broadsword like a priceless work.

"Lance- I can't-"

"Take it, please." Lancelot insisted, pushing the weapon into Merlin's arms with a smile. "It's long past time I stopped mourning the loss of my first home and started finding a new one. I think I'll always be a warrior, but for now… I need to finally stop fighting and figure out what I truly want."

"But… you need it…" He protested weakly even as his fingers wrapped around the old leather reflexively.

"The sword is my code, but I don't need it to defend myself." Lancelot replied as he clasped his arms reservedly in front of him, looking a little sad. "Perhaps my destiny truly is locked with violence…"

Merlin titled his head, studying the sorrowful gaze on his friend's face. How strange it was, to see the way Lancelot was grieved by his fighting skills were Arthur was proud, yet they both shared the same need to use those skills to help the helpless. They were like night and day, the two knights, yet another one of the dragon's coins complementing each other perfectly. Merlin knew they would get on wonderfully; and he also knew that Lancelot looked badly in need of a rest, of the kind of peace you could only find away from the frontlines.

"Perhaps destiny can be changed, Lance."

Merlin knew he must look truly childish, hugging the scabbard to his chest and openly crying, but he wasn't a very manly man in the first place. Lancelot wasn't just his friend; they had fought together, bled together, kept each other going in the ring when Gwen and Morgana weren't able to anymore. He was nearly as much his brother now as Arthur…

"That place- your new home, I mean; it can't be Camelot…?"

"In another life, maybe; but not here, and not with Gwen." His long face brightened. "Perhaps one day, once I've sorted myself out, I'll return to Camelot and see what my options are. But right now this is what I have to do."

Merlin took a deep breath, stemming his girlish tears with his free hand, and pulled Sir Lancelot into a bear hug. He returned it only briefly, clearly wanting to go before he broke down himself, so Merlin pulled away and took stock of his friend for possibly the final time.

"Be safe, Merlin." Lancelot said warmly.

"Be _happy,_ Lancelot." He returned just as affectionately.

Lancelot just smiled, the first stirrings of a lifelong weight dropping from his shoulders, and strode off into the morning dew.

###

"It's going to be harder to push me away when it's just the two of us, you know." Merlin offered softly.

The sun was fully raised by the time her love finally returned to their little campsite, respectfully placing Lancelot's sword on the rock where their own rested. Morgana shifted awkwardly from her spot next to the fire, skinning their breakfast pensively with a dagger. Hunting was something Merlin was clearly capable of, but didn't exactly enjoy; just another way in which they differed. The look on his face when she had woken him up to the smell of dead rabbit was somehow both heartbreaking and adorable at once.

"I am not pushing you away, Merlin." She replied, hoping the lie didn't come through in her voice the way it always did around him. He cocked an eyebrow almost royally at her, (_He really_ has _been spending too much time with me)_ seeing through her as clearly as he always had, and Morgana found the small part of her cursing his constant perceptiveness drowned out by the rest of her loving him for it. The rest of her, of course, was also the part that stubbornly clung to the sky blue scarf she wore, now dirty and torn, even though she had Merlin himself with her. It was a small piece of him- of _them-_ she wanted to hold onto, to keep her anchored when he wasn't there.

_Because one day, he won't be…_

Merlin crossed the short space between them in a few long-legged strides, standing over her and waiting for her to look up from the bloody mess she was holding. When she stubbornly didn't, he heaved a sigh and slipped himself down behind her, stretching out his legs on either side of her. She failed to hide the contented breath that escaped her when his arms slipped around her waist and a bristly chin rested on her shoulder.

"Alright, maybe I am." Morgana said after a moment of silence, aware of a tentative Merlin watching her attack the rabbit with more gusto than was necessary. For once, there was no sign of revulsion for the violent act, and her entire body stood to attention at the realization that her wellbeing was more important to him than even the poor animal she was mauling in front of him.

"Why, Morgana?" Came the entreaty whispered into her ear, making her still her work and shiver uncontrollably. Damn him, he knew what he was doing to her…

"There are j-just a few things I need to work out… on my own…" She replied again after she'd steadied herself and he had stopped smiling smugly into her hair. A realization made her stop again and turn to look him in the eye, noses almost touching. "You _do_ know it's not about you, right?"

A blink and a smile; he was so _gentle_ with her…

"I have my moments, but yeah, I know." His arms squeezed tighter around her for a moment, suffusing her with that feeling of comfort and solidarity his slightest touch always invoked. "Is this about Hengist…?"

Morgana felt herself scowl and break his gaze with some difficulty, finishing preparing their breakfast. She made to get up and he instantly released her, earning him a grateful squeeze on his bare shoulder. He'd been constantly shirtless since his bandages had come off, as they had no spare available; a situation she was _very_ happy with. The blood on her hands stained his milky skin red, but he oddly didn't seem to mind and she wondered if she was rubbing off on him in more ways than one. It was a good look for him; then again, he somehow made shapeless clothing and raggedy scarves unbearably sexy, so she shouldn't be surprised.

"I'm not some weeping damsel, Merlin." She said somewhat bitterly as she picked up a sharpened stick, uncomfortable at the idea that he may think her so weak. Her hand clutched the wood until her knuckles were white, memories of that oaf's suffocating weight and the hardness digging into her thigh threatening to send her into dry heaves. "He didn't… he didn't even get my clothes off!"

"That doesn't mean it didn't affect you." Her love said softly, now standing with his hands in his pockets where they had been sitting, and damn him again for his ability to see to her very core. She couldn't bear to have him relive Hengist when the guilt was so obviously weighing on him, not even to comfort her. Her heart twanged as his beautiful blues softened sadly at her. "Come on, Morgana. We used to talk about everything…"

"Not _everything._" Morgana fired back as she speared the rabbit and placed it over the fire, before turning her full attention to him. His brow furrowed minutely, and she felt the urge to throw something at him, because here she was pouring her heart out to him for over a month about all of her darkest secrets, while he kept his battles with the Great Dragon and that Nimueh woman locked up where she couldn't get to them. It was _infuriating_ and completely not the reason she was angry, but it made a damn good deflection.

But a thought was occurring to Merlin now, the flecks of gold in his irises standing out as they widened and then narrowed in realization.

"Morgana… where did you get that spell, the one to heal skull fractures?"

Morgana pushed past him towards the small stream next to camp, kneeling to begin washing the crimson off her hands. She remained silent for a moment more, building her courage, before finally aiming haughtily over her shoulder;

"The same place I learned to scry for you… the Great Dragon."

A dreadful silence rang between them.

She kept her head down as she scrubbed furiously at her hands, giving her an excuse to avoid the shocked horror emanating from the man behind her. Finally, he knelt beside her suddenly, and she let his rough hand tilt her face to meet his hard one.

"_What did he do to you?"_ He snarled, and she was briefly at a loss for words at how much he looked like he had when he had killed Hengist, this new side to her lover she had barely seen flashes of in the past. While she had prodded his anger- savored the rather attractive fury she and she alone could draw from him- it seemed that no matter how she had baited, she couldn't inspire _this_ kind of hate in him if she wanted to. She pressed her wet hand into his cheek lovingly, trying to sooth away the anger and fear pouring out him.

"_Nothing,_ my love." Morgana spoke mildly, trailing her hand down his neck to begin scouring the blood off his shoulder, and taking delight in the effect her caress had on him. "I needed to find you, he needed you alive…"

She darted a careful gaze back at his face, where his horror was only growing.

"…We made a deal, that's all."

Merlin gave a wordless shout of frustration and swirled to his feet angrily, wrenching his hands through his messy bedhead and letting out a string of filthy expletives she had never heard him use before. (It was actually kind of arousing…)

"You _can't_ release him!" Merlin barked finally as he turned back to her, looking more panicked then she had ever seen him. She gave him her best insulted look.

"Well _of course_ not; do you think I'm stupid, love?" Merlin froze mid-rage, and it was with a groan that she realized he hadn't actually considered her just _not_ holding up to her end of the bargain. "You are far too honorable for your own good, Merlin. I'm assuming he's squeezed a similar oath from you as well?"

"…On my mother's life." Merlin whispered tiredly, and she felt her stomach drop even as she got to her feet. Hunith was a wonderful woman, she could tell even from the veiled interaction they had through letters; it was easy to see where her son had gotten his best qualities. That said she also knew he was fiercely protective of her; keeping in constant contact and pestering her to leave their struggling little village and come to Camelot with him. (Of course, his mother was also where he had gotten his stubbornness from.) When Kanen's mad gang had threatened her, Merlin had dropped everything to put his life on the line for her.

"…That damn sphinx certainly knows how to manipulate you, doesn't he?" Morgana concluded softly. "Threaten your mother and he has you in the palm of his claw… Merlin, he can't actually _do anything_ to her, you know? He's imprisoned down there."

Merlin crossed his arms insecurely over his bare stomach, looking oddly frightened.

"It doesn't matter, Morgana, he'll find a way." A faraway look drifted across his face, accompanied by the kind of paranoia Uther normally created in her. "He _always_ finds a way…"

Morgana shivered involuntarily at that, because if that was true…

"I swore on your life." She whispered, calming his surprised look with a hand resting over his heart, glorying in the steady pulse. _Alive, still alive..._ She watched keen eyes look down at where her hand and gaze were before their eyes met, and his face dropped.

"…You dreamed my death, didn't you?"

Morgana couldn't stop the tears that came again, her always tenuous self-control cracking once more as those awful images rose up yet again. She felt her rickety walls collapse and before she knew it she was crushing him in a hard embrace, bawling into his chest.

"…Yes, Merlin." She managed to get out between sobs. "Yes."

###

_Stupid,_ stupid,_ Merlin._ He thought harshly as the woman he loved more than anything, more than the entire world and all the treasures in it, dissolved into a fit of tears harder than he had ever seen her. He gingerly freed his arms and put them around her, fisting the material of her nightshirt in frustration because he _should have seen this coming._

_Maybe you did._ Inner Will chimed in for a bit of sage advice, and Merlin had thought he was done doing that since he had given into his feelings for Morgana. _Not on your life, buddy. Now don't you think that maybe the reason you accepted her sudden change so easily, was because you just didn't _want _to face whatever she had dreamed about you?_

Merlin mulled over the advice from himself as he brushed his hands through black tresses, whispering nonsense into her ear in the hopes that she would calm down. Of course he knew her dream was about him; it was obvious just from the way she pushed him away immediately afterwards. But whatever it could be was instantly forgotten when her cold dismissal had reared its head, along with the thought that perhaps she had seen an unhappy future with him and was acting to prevent it.

Of course, that was exactly what she had done.

"He _killed_ you!" She was crying now, a hand beating ineffectually against his chest. "You were chained and hurt and nobody would help and _I don't know why_ but we didn't use our magic, and-and-and then he was… _he was…_"

"Shush, dear." Merlin whispered, pulling away just enough to force her quivering lips into a kiss. Carefully he worked his way through familiar pathways into her soul, temporarily bowled over by the screaming chaos ruling her again. _Oh, milady…_ He thought as he began reaching out magically, trying to pull the shredded pieces of her back together as he had so many times before. It was only when she felt a sudden thrill of revulsion that he realized too late he was, in a way, forcing himself on her.

"GET OFF ME!" She bellowed madly, and a blast of force sent him sprawling across the dirt.

_Stupid, stupid, _stupid, _Merlin._ He thought, looking up from where he lay as non-threateningly as possible at Morgana, still shaking in quiet hysterics. How could he have allowed himself to forget, even for a moment, that she had almost been _raped?_

"I-I'm sorry," She stuttered, her tears drying in her shock. "I didn't- I thought you were-"

Her devastated face dropped, hiding behind her hair like a dark veil.

"I thought you were him for a moment."

Merlin smoothly got back to his feet, brushing dirt off himself to show that he was unharmed. She gave him a tight smile, looking relieved and apologetic and mortified all at once. While Merlin fumbled desperately for an adequate apology, she cut him down with a look, begging him not to push this particular topic. He relented mindfully, giving her back some of the power that had nearly been taken, even if it was just over the conversation. They simply stood in silence until she spoke again, sounding more broken than he had ever heard her.

"He cut your head off, Merlin." Morgana muttered disconsolately. "I saw… I saw him _cut your head off."_

"Hey, _hey_; look, my head's right here, see?" He murmured as comfortingly as he could, his feet overriding his head's order to give her room, stepping back into her personal space immediately. Thankfully, she seemed calmer now, grateful for his closeness, if a little embarrassed. Tentative fingers rose to trace his Adam's apple.

"…You _are_ alive." She whispered guiltily. "…But for how long?"

Merlin stared in open confusion as she suddenly broke away, her tone shifting briskly into the kind she used on the battlefield.

"You cannot return to Camelot." Morgana was saying- well, ordering- the barest timber in her voice the only clue to her persisting fragility. "I will not allow Uther to get you."

"M-Morgana, we can't-" He began temperately, but she cut him off with a harsh look over her shoulder, before tossing her hair and going back to packing their things.

"You-you'll head for the Druids; I can scry them for you, he can't get you there; I'll go back to Camelot, say you died, misdirect any searches for you… you'll be safe-"

"No." Merlin said, maybe harder than was necessary, but the idea of separating from her again made his entire body roar in protest. Besides, he couldn't leave Arthur either, not in a million years, or Gwen and Gaius and all the others who would be endangered by the unnatural wave of attacks on Camelot.

"…And why not?" Morgana said darkly as she stomped closer, trying to intimidate him into relenting but mostly just panicking at his firm refusal. Her eyes were wide and red, looking as if she was trapped in the mad afterglow of a vision, and he wondered worriedly whether the vivid memory of a dream could have the same effect.

"You remember all those stories that I told you, how many times I've saved Camelot, right?" He began hesitantly, prompting a sharp nod. "There are more attacks like that every month or so, and I have to be there to stop them. For Arthur's sake-"

Merlin reeled as the slap connected, clutching his red face in astonishment as she jabbed a long finger at him, looking more dangerous than he had ever seen her.

"Don't you _dare_ put him above me." Morgana growled. Their eyes stayed locked with each other as the seconds pass, one showing surprise and sympathy, the other terror and growing regret. Finally, Merlin lowered his hand and wrapped it around her outstretched finger, relishing her electric touch.

"_Never,_ Morgana." Merlin said, infusing those two words with every ounce of conviction he held for her, willing her to believe him. "I'm only putting Arthur over _me."_

"_Why?"_ She shrieked inches from him, eliciting a startled jump from him that she didn't even seem to notice. He'd never seen her like this… "In every story you tell, it's always Arthur, Arthur, Arthur! Why, in God's name, are you always so damn eager to kill yourself for a man who would burn you if he ever truly knew you?"

"_Because,_ it's my destiny!" Merlin shouted back.

Morgana pulled back hard, as if _he_ had slapped _her_. Merlin closed his eyes briefly, mentally hitting himself for not broaching this subject sooner. Of all the things to leave out of his tales, he chose _this?_ She opened her mouth for a moment before closing it, folding her arms over a heaving chest and nodding for him to go on.

"Arthur's destiny is to free magic… and my destiny is to make sure he lives long enough to do it." Merlin began, taking a deep breath. "…On the day that I arrived in Camelot, I heard a voice calling me…"

###

Morgana just stood there silently, arms crossed, while he talked nervously, revealing the secret driving his overprotectiveness of her foster brother. As his soothing voice spun his tale she felt the disseminated pieces of herself fit back together like a jigsaw puzzle, at long last returning some shreds of the control she craved. When he was done, she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, the way Gaius did when he found her nodding off in the middle of his lecture.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" She said at last, savoring the abashed look on his face. Merlin fumbled with his hands, seemingly unaware that he was still inches from her.

"If I told you about Arthur, it would mean explaining the dragon to you." Came the quiet reply. "And I couldn't… I couldn't take the chance that you would want to go meet the only other Seer we know of, and he would…" He broke off and stared at her rabbit, now burnt to a crisp and utterly forgotten, and she furrowed her brow. She hated it when he kept her in the dark to protect her, almost as much as she hated doing it to him.

"You have only the dragon's word on this." Morgana said with a toss of her hair; because not a damn thing that creature said could be trusted. "He's a liar, Merlin, and he'd do anything to be free. Doesn't it sound like him to use you as a tool to mold Arthur into freeing him?"

What followed was the strangest cross-section of expressions she had ever seen. Shock, anger, amusement, sorrow, worry, and a rock hard denial stormed across his beautiful face before it settled again. She got the feeling she had just voiced something he had been worrying about for a while now.

"No, Morgana. I believe in Arthur."

"What has he ever done to suggest he'll free magic?" She fired off furiously, feeling anger and an odd jealously towards Arthur she had never before felt, for somehow splitting her man's allegiance like this. _You belong to _me,_ blast it!_

"He freed the Druid boy himself and took him home." Merlin shot back triumphantly, provoking a flash of fury at the way he defended her foster brother as easily as he had always defended her.

"He had to be convinced, though!"

"It didn't take long, though."

Morgana snapped her lips shut before the yell could escape, trying to quell the next breakdown threatening to ruin her yet again. It didn't work.

_Damn him, damn Arthur, damn the bastard dragon, and damn bloody Uther!_

"I don't care about Arthur!" She was screaming before she could stop herself, flashes of his head separating from his neck driving her to the edge of madness. "I don't even care about myself! But I can't- _I won't-"_

Morgana broke off, feeling not anything like the worshipped lady of Camelot and more like the mad old crones in storybooks.

_I can't live without you._ She completed the thought in her head. Every second apart from him would eat her alive. Except…

_I won't let you die because of me._ Except she could bear it, could live with the agony, if only he were safe.

"Morgana…" The sound of his loving voice, so concerned, _always_ so concerned, broke her anew.

"I can't let you die!" Morgana shrieked madly, a flock of birds squawking in protest and taking to the skies. Merlin didn't pull back this time, stayed inches from her face, drunk in her insanity as if seeing her for the first time. "Everything I touch dies, Merlin! M-my parents, Gwen's father, Estelle and Durwood and Janice and everyone else who was burned, _but not you!_ Never you!"

She was openly crying again, she knew; resented it with the part of her that wanted to be the icy and impressive noblewoman, and embraced it with the rest of her that wanted him to again accept all of her sides. Merlin just stared compassionately, silently allowing her hands to flutter wildly about his face and his chest and his heart- _his strong, beating heart-_

"You- you have to leave me." She cried, pressing her forehead against his almost painfully. "Please, I love you, you have to go. I only ruin things, I only _hurt_ you. I broke your heart and I made you kill for me- _I made you kill for me, I'm so sorry-"_

And that was when he kissed her again.

He didn't open their magical connection again, didn't even take hold of her; he just captured her lips and began moving them rhythmically, leaving her room to push him away whenever she wished. The part of her not concerned with slipping her tongue in his mouth flushed at her earlier reaction, horrified that she could ever equate Merlin and Hengist for even a moment. The rest of her let it go, along with her terror and her dreams, and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Clever hands shyly rested on her waist, lighting her skin on fire through the cotton of her shirt, before beginning to push her away. She made a disappointed sound in the back of her throat, but one look at his grave, tear-stained face broke her out of lust and made her remember what she had just told him.

"Killing Hengist was the worst thing I've ever done, Morgana; but the thing is..." He whispered severely; they were still locked in a tight embrace, electricity spreading from their hands and the tips of their noses where they touched. Suddenly she was utterly exhausted, more than she had been in ages, so she simply rested crowns with him again and nodded for him to go on.

"…The thing is, I'm not sorry for what I did. He was going to-" He broke off for a moment, his light breathing warm and a little intoxicating on her face. "Well, I'm glad I stopped him, and I'm not sorry that he's dead. I'm only sorry you felt like you had to go after him for me in the first place."

Morgana gave him a look she hoped showed her bafflement. "How could I _not?"_

"I didn't ask you to take revenge for me, Morgana." He said reproachfully.

"You didn't _have_ to." She shot back, tightening her hold around his neck protectively. "And for the record, you seemed to enjoy avenging _me_ quite a bit."

Merlin averted his gaze for a moment, and she felt a flush of shame at her prodding the guilt he clearly felt over how little he regretted the barbarian's well-deserved death. Blue eyes welled up and shut unhappily, a sea of self-loathing emanating from his magic and threatening to drown her. Morgana wrinkled her brow regretfully and drew comforting circles with her fingers on the back of his neck, trying to understand where he was coming from.

"Oh, Merlin…" Morgana whispered, burying her lips against his comfortingly. She had been raised a knight all her life, and so to her murder and revenge were as intrinsically noble as honor and valor.

_But you grew up a farmer… a _caretaker. _Life is everything to you, isn't it, my love…_

"You killed him to save me, Merlin, even though it went against what you believe in." Morgana said soothingly against his lips, feeling his eyelashes flutter against her own. "So I'll let you go to save you, even though it will destroy me. You deserve a long life, Merlin, away from the killing… and I can't give it to you."

Their eyes opened together, and she was grateful for the fingers now digging into her waist that kept her from stumbling at the sheer fortitude she saw in him.

"Morgana, I've wasted so much time pushing you away." He began huskily. "I was scared of-of letting you in, or losing control of myself… I was convinced that you were fooling yourself. But now, after all this…"

Feather-light hands slide up her body, past her neck, and stroked the sides of her face in wonder.

"Morgana, all I can see with you now is happiness." That goofy smile rose onto his face, nearly coaxing one of her own from her cautiously hopeful expression. "Every moment away from you was just-just _wrong,_ and I don't think that feeling would ever go away. Sure, I could leave Camelot, be safe and free to use magic openly; even marry some pretty brunette I'd fight to convince myself wasn't a stand-in for you, have children I'd wish were yours."

Despite herself she laughed tearfully against the loving pecks he was stealing in-between sentences, his careful attentions a balm on all the wounds that had been bleeding since she had first seen him die. Her hands unlocked from around him and slid into place on his pronounced cheekbones, mirroring his posture.

"I could live a long, happy life and die quietly looking like Dragoon the Great." Deft hands slipped over shoulders teasingly, and she gave him an adoring but confused look as he untied the silk scarf. "But just like when I was blacking out at the bottom of that ravine… Morgana, at the end of my life I know I would look back and regret _every single second_ that you weren't in it."

Full lips gave one last teasing kiss before he suddenly dropped to one knee before her. Was he- _he couldn't be-_

"Lady Morgana, I love you." Merlin said, but she didn't need to hear it to know. He was glowing with adoration as he looked up at her shocked face; the kind of love she had longed for all her life but never thought she would earn. "I _have_ no life if you're not with me. Uther, the dragon, your dream; we'll fight them all, together, and we'll _win."_

"Merlin…" She whispered, watching long hands magically stretching the scarf into a silk ribbon… the kind used in handfasting ceremonies and- _Oh!_

He looked up at her with hopeful eyes, shyly offering everything she had ever prayed for as a little girl. And there were so many things against them, so many reasons this shouldn't work, but all of a sudden they seemed insignificant before the man she loved and the promise he gave. Because that was what he did for her; whenever the darkness closed in from all sides, he was there to beat it back with her.

_This isn't fair,_ the stubborn part of her insisted. _You know I don't have your restraint…_

"Marry me." Her beautiful Merlin asked, and with that, she had none.

###

Merlin looked just as beautiful beneath her.

Hands clasped together bound by a sky blue cloth, she traced little patterns on his stomach, traveling further to dance above bare legs, relishing the feel of his naked body against her. He laughed huskily against her kiss as they tumbled together amongst the leaves, turning day to night and shaking the very earth using each others names as incantations. Across Albion, scared citizens poured out into the streets to point in awe at the section of the sky awash with chaos, while the swordless knight just arriving threw back his head and laughed. For one section of the forest in the middle of nowhere, it was as if the end of the world had come.

But for them, lost in passion and promise, it was only the beginning.

_Forever, my husband._

_Forever, my wife._

###

**Fourteen pages. _Fourteen pages!_ What the hell is wrong with me?**

**Chapter commentary:**

**1) I've always kind of passively liked Lancelot, in the "oh, he's a nice guy, sucks about Gwen" kind of way. But now that I've actually had to get inside his head, he's suddenly really cool to me, the big polite woobie. I wanted to give him a semi-happier end then he's gotten so far in the show, because no matter how close he is to Merlin, hanging around and watching Arwen be aggravating and adorable in the background is going to kill him. S4 better have him get over it and find somebody who loves him and only him. (Elena, y/y?)**

**2) I think one of the things people often don't get about rape is that it's not about sex, it's about _power._ We view it as the absolute worst thing you can do to hurt someone, even more than killing them, because you're not just attacking their bodies, your attacking their _freedom._ The right to choose who to be intimate with is a very important one, and rape is the act of taking away that choice, attacking control over oneself. That would effect anybody, but especially someone who values autonomy as much as Morgana. Nothing actually happened and she's not going to be crying about it for the rest of the story, but Morgana almost had her personal freedom taken from her and I thought I had to have her react in some way, y'know? So much of her and Merlin's relationship is about crossing boundaries, I had to show Hengist having _some_ effect on them before they regroup and overcome. How did I do?**

**3) Yeah, they got hitched. And made love. (Crazy magic sex! b^_^b) Oh, come on, they're young and in love and it's a whirlwind romance, give me a break! After all they've been through, I thought it was time they just threw caution to the wind and plowed forward. (heh, plowed...) Beside, y'all know Arwen would be tying the knot if it were legal.**


	16. Homecoming

"...All I'm saying, wife, is we're going to have to show more restraint."

Morgana gave him a wry look as they trudged down the dirt road hand-in-hand, still bound by their handfasting ribbon; their commitment made cloth, in lieu of wedding bands. She couldn't stop herself from staring reverently at it, at what it represented, and the beautiful man pledging himself to her.

_My husband._ She thought excitedly. _My future._

He caught her stare from the corner of his eye and broke his mock scowl to shoot her an adoring smile, the one that made her heart speed up until it felt like it would burst. This was it, the rest of her life, walking gawkily along beside her as she dragged him into another of the meaningless spats they both enjoyed far too much. After a lifetime of loss and searching, _finally,_ she knew where home was. _Who_ home was.

"And all _I'm_ saying, husband, is I think we've gotten enough control over our magic not to worry too much about it." She replied finally, lazily swatting at a mosquito on his bare shoulder. Honestly, he could be so reserved sometimes; as endearing as it could be, she didn't think it would ever stop frustrating her.

"Well, we're definitely getting better," Merlin said laughingly, and that was quite an understatement. "But I don't think we're capable of making love unnoticed in Camelot yet, dear."

"Oh, but why not?" Morgana said as she brought him to a halt on the road by stepping firmly into his path, delighting in his shiver at her proximity. "Last time barely anything even happened!"

"Morgana, the forest we made love in is now _sentient!"_

"But not _too_ sentient." She shot back cheerfully, because it wasn't like the trees could talk in any way other than moaning their names; probably because that was the first sounds that they heard. "Really, love, you are overreacting; it's not nearly as bad as our second time was."

Merlin got a faraway look in his eyes, vividly remembering the mood killer that was his shoe suddenly sprouting the voice and personality of a prudish old maid, and forcing them into an existential argument mid-coitus. She had finally lit the damn thing on fire in order to get back to it, which had led to Merlin walking around half-bare foot in addition to shirtless. He certainly looked a mess, partially naked and scruffy with the remnants of mostly healed wounds peppering his form. (The long scratches on his back were actually her doing, but he didn't seem to be complaining, so…)

"…Merlin?" She said as she surfaced from her thoughts, finding him staring strangely over her shoulder.

"We're home…" He whispered disbelievingly, and she turned slowly to face the horizon.

Sure enough, Camelot rose majestically over the hills, filling her with relief and dread all at once. She felt him brush up against her magically, asking permission to connect to her the way he always did now since her stupid lapse of judgment. And as always she immediately opened herself whole to him, showed him he didn't need to ask for what he already owned. A heavy sigh escaped her, while long fingers tightened their grasp on hers and his grounded emotions worked to settle her fraying ones.

The past few days had been the most wonderful of her life. It was just the two of them, alone with their magic and their love under the leaves and the stars, _free._ She could hear duty and destiny tapping their feet, knew it was only a matter of time before they were back to sneaking and hiding and forcing their bodies not to sidle up to one another in public. But for these few glorious days, all that they knew was each other.

Speaking of glorious, there was also the sex. All her life, she had thought of carnal acts as a depressing inevitability, something to grit her teeth and bear when she was married off to sire heirs (and if they weren't male, she would be seen to have 'failed' as if in some trite competition). And though she was loath to admit it, for a time that ogre Hengist had managed to redefine it into something even worse, something that made her afraid in a way nothing else could. For that period, she had been terrified more than anything that what had nearly been done to her had caused too much damage to ever let her fully love her Merlin in the way she craved.

But she was wrong; _wonderfully_ wrong. Making love to Merlin was every bit as transcendent as she had fantasized; no, _so _much more. The rhythm they set was like a tuning fork, amplifying all their quirks and little moments, and the feelings between them; empathy and comfort, respect and appreciation, quiet familiarity and roaring newness. But most of all, it carried their _love,_ spinning and rising and bursting to new heights. And when it was over, when they collapsed laughing and sighing against each other to survey the fallout of whatever their loss of control had wreaked…

Each time, they looked into each other's eyes and knew more of each other; _loved_ more of each other.

So it should come as no surprise that they had a little trouble stopping long enough to actually get home. They'd get half a day's hike in and then suddenly she was straddling him against a rock and they were spent until nightfall. It was very counter-productive and she knew Arthur, Gwen, and Gaius were probably tearing out their hair in worry, but they _needed_ this right now. They needed the closeness and the freedom; the natural rapport they fell into after lovemaking, the back and forth about life-or-death matters or totally frivolous things; all just to hear the other's voice.

Now together they stood, hand in hand, watching the afternoon sun alight their city like a halo.

"I wish this could last forever." Morgana said sadly, not moving her eyes from the distant kingdom, as if willing it to disappear. Her apprehension, fear, and growing resentment roiled into him, meeting his own and then being smothered gently by his faith and resolve. She shook her head, because not even he could fix this for them, sooth what they were about to lose for the foreseeable future. "I wish… I wish we could just leave here, do you know?"

"Just keep walking?" Merlin turned to her with the beginnings of a smile tugging on those lush lips. She met his earnest eyes with a happy nod.

"Yeah, just the two of us, in the woods." She heard her voice take on a nostalgic lilt, as she allowed herself to get lost in what couldn't be. "We could go _anywhere_, darling, do _anything."_

"Build a little house next to a river, to raise the twins." Merlin supplied cheerfully, getting as much into it as she was. "A boy _and_ a girl, of course."

"With two dogs for them, and a cat for me."

"What, I don't get a pet?"

"_Fine,_ love, we'll get you a bird."

"…Just because I'm _named_ after a bird doesn't mean I like them." He pouted adorably. "Didn't I ever tell you about that eagle that tore up my scarf, the one I wrapped your spell book in? I swear, it just did it to spite me."

Morgana just shook her head and smiled, unable to continue the fantasy any longer; unable to keep wishing for what they would only have snippets of from now on.

"_Hey;_ we'll get it back, Morgana… one day." Merlin whispered reassuringly, moving closer to press a hand against her cheek that she grasped appreciatively with her own. "When magic is free, we won't have anything holding us back, I promise."

"…Do you really think Arthur can do it?" She said after a hard swallow, and knew he could feel the trepidation in her core, fighting with the cautious hope beginning to take root. She was still skeptical of this prophecy- because as much as she loved Arthur, he wasn't exactly pro-magic- but found herself wanting to believe in it so strongly. If for once the dragon was being honest, then Arthur was the third option she'd never bothered searching for. A way to free magic without killing Uther, something she couldn't deny would wound her terribly even though she daydreamed about it.

Merlin nodded firmly, pressing his mouth comfortingly against her forehead.

"I believe in him." He whispered against her skin. "With all that I am."

Morgana quirked her lips as he pulled away just enough to look down at her; feeling half reassured and half infuriated that somebody else was getting 'all that he was', but being jealous of Arthur's incomprehensible bond with her husband was even more silly than those raunchy rumors about them circulating the castle. (_Well, they _better_ just be rumors…)_

Her husband heaving a sigh broke her out of her ridiculous reverie, and she followed his downcast eyes to meet them at the ribbon marking their vows. A distressed noise slipped out of her as she realized that the time had finally come to remove it, to begin hiding their commitment from the world when all she wanted to do was shout it from the battlements. She felt his gaze on her face pulling her eyes towards him, communicating just by sight, proving once again that they didn't need magic to talk without words.

The wind seemed to stop and the birds seemed to quiet as they came to a mutual decision, free hands rising together to splay in the air over the band. One whispered word later and it was severed cleanly in half… leaving them, once again, unbound.

But then Merlin was grinning and holding up his wrist to her, where around it was tied his half of the sky blue material as a wedding band of a different kind.

_I'm still yours._ It promised.

Morgana shook her head and laughed at her ability to still be surprised when he took something horrible and made it okay for her, because she honestly should know better by now. She leveled a searching gaze at him, taking in his iron resolve that they could _make this work_; absorbing his pledge to her.

"…I've finally got you." She giggled, as she finished tying her own band, sending the promise back to him.

"My wife, you've had me from the moment we first met." He grinned down at her, planting a loving kiss against her lips.

"Race you?" She challenged playfully.

"You're on!"

###

It was barely minutes that they were back in town before they heard Gwen's squeal from across the road and suddenly they were both engulfed in swirling fabrics and bouncing curls. Merlin shared an amused glance with his wife over Gwen's shoulder; she had one arm around each of their necks crushing her inbetween them awkwardly, but his best friend didn't seem to care and just continued crying into their joint shoulder.

"You're alive…" She managed between sobs, while Morgana brushed her hair soothingly and Merlin tried to wave off the growing crowd. "You're both alive…"

"Yes…" Morgana said affectionately, valiantly holding back tears of her own. "We're home, Gwen."

Gwen seemed to come back to herself somewhat, gingerly stepping away from them and brushing the tracks off her flushed face. Merlin gave her the brightest smile he could, because there had been a million times where he never thought he'd see his best friend again, and now here she was. Gwen the handmaiden, all smiles and ringlets and more warmth than anyone knew what to do with. No wonder Arthur had fallen for her.

_Arthur…!_

"How is Arthur doing?" Morgana asked for him, reading the question on his face before he even voiced it. He shot her a brief smirk which she returned, because for some reason he found it unbelievably sexy whenever she showed just how well she could read him.

"Oh…!" Gwen gasped. "He'll be so happy to see you, he's been so worried… that is, I mean, not that he will show it much, you know him, but I promise he's been very anxious about you two out there alone. I-I mean, not that you're not able to defend yourselves, that is-"

"Breathe, Gwen!" He laughed along with his wife, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. She flushed and smiled, clearly having missed him steadying her ramblings as much as he had.

"Why don't I just take you to him?"

Merlin fell back a little along the familiar path to Gaius' chambers, letting both his girls lead him with a clasped hand while Morgana grilled Gwen about Arthur's wellbeing and what Uther's reaction to her disappearance had been. Predictably, he had blown his top, and Merlin shared a frown with Morgana. Neither of them had thought much about what to do when they returned, or hadn't _allowed_ themselves to, more likely, and now he was… worried. Honestly, for those few short days, Merlin had actually thought his luck had changed.

Really, how could he not. The love of his life (because he knew now, with every fiber of his being, that was what she was) was in his arms now, whenever he- or she- wished it to be. They had gotten nearly everything out in the open between them, and though they both had just a few more things kept hidden, they also both knew it was only a matter of time before they too were shared. After years of loneliness, of feeling like his only connection to those he loved was one of servitude, he finally had something _real._ A woman who loved him, fiery and beautiful and _magical_ and so much more than he could have ever dreamed of.

And now she was his wife… and he was her husband. He felt Morgana's confused eyes on his face as he smiled dumbly. _Husband._ A title he knew he would have to grow into, one he wasn't sure he would have ever been blessed to give himself. Friend, son, servant, warlock, adversary; he wore them all well. Husband was something brand new, scary and thrilling and the most fulfilling role he had ever taken on so far. The only thing that gave him more satisfaction was the light in Morgana's eyes, even now, reflecting the same gratitude for her own new role. The words were new and strange on their tongues, but they knew they would be there for each other every step of the way; to figure out together how to be husband and wife.

_My wife!_ He thought giddily._ In your face, village girl who said I'd never get married!_

"Ah, Guinevere, good timing, there's this _itch_ I was hoping you could scratch-"

Arthur, nursing his heavily bandaged side, finished getting his feet and stared in shock at the door. Merlin and Morgana crossed their arms and gave him dual haughty looks, while they could somehow _feel_ Gwen flush from behind her.

"I leave you alone for barely a week, and look what happens." Merlin tut-tutted, elbowing his wife beside him to get her to stop laughing. It was good for the new and improved Mergana monster they had merged into to get a chance to be aggravating and adorable at its counterpart's expense.

"I-I-erm…" Arthur babbled for a moment, sharing a helpless look with his paramour, before his face clicked with the sign that he had come up with a patented prat-plan. Instantly he was groaning and clutching his sides, in an obviously feigned relapse. Gwen gave a frustrated huff, suddenly knocked out of her embarrassment, and stomped over to the prince in a swirl of her skirts.

"_What _did I tell you about standing so soon?" She said fiercely, and he caught Morgana's impressed look from the corner of his eye because suddenly meek little Guinevere was the most commanding person in the room.

"Ah, not to do it…?" Arthur supplied, more cowed than he'd ever seen him, prompting chocolate eyes to lift skyward.

"Honestly, Arthur, the way your treat yourself it's no _wonder_ you're taking so long to heal." Gwen said, her beleaguered tone doing nothing to hide the worry and love coating her words. "Sit right back down, this instant!"

Arthur gave an odd look as he obediently moved to sit, somewhere between humiliated at being ordered about by his commoner girlfriend in front of the two people most likely to hold it over him, and somehow overwhelmingly appreciative of his love's concern. Merlin and Morgana flashed each other a pleased, heartwarming look before approaching to help the injured prince to his cot.

"You look like hell." Arthur commented dryly as thanks for Merlin's help, giving him a onceover. It was the prince's usual roundabout way of asking if he was unharmed, but it touched Merlin to see how hard a time he was having at hiding his concern this time. "And what happened to your shirt?"

"Torn up and used for bandages." Morgana provided anecdotally from where she was staring amused at the way Gwen was fighting with Arthur's fringe to dab at his bow. "I'm fine as well, by the way, thank you for your concern."

Foster siblings shot those certain grimaces reserved for mocking each other as barbed royal wit flew briefly, but it was all tinged with happiness and relief from both parties. Merlin shared an exasperated look with Gwen, a new camaraderie of not understanding their highborn loves born between them.

"My liege, I swear to my _medicine cabinet_, if you've pulled something trying to eat Gwen's face again-"

Gaius froze in the doorway, and Merlin felt himself seize up in turn.

"Merlin…!"

Before he knew what was happening he was lifting the old man off his feet in a bear hug, Gaius' joyous laughter ringing in his ears. It had been ages since Merlin had heard that sound, since he and Morgana had first fought what seemed like lifetimes ago, and it filled his heart near to bursting to actually hear it again.

"I never gave up on you, you know." Gaius smiled tearfully as they separated, the pride shining in his eyes nearly sending Merlin reeling.

"Too stubborn to die, I suppose!" Merlin said, coaxing another genuine laugh from the man who had become his father, and pulling him into another quick hug. So many times while he fought and bled in that dungeon, while Morgana gave him heart and Gwen and Arthur gave him strength, it was Gaius who kept him _thinking;_ he could never properly express how much his mentor's stern lessons in detachment and logic meant to him now_._ Gaius started suddenly when he noticed the awkwardly smiling trio behind them, but far from being abashed he simply broke away from Merlin and did the last thing Merlin expected.

"I'm so glad you are both safe." Gaius spoke as he gently hugged Morgana, planting a fatherly kiss on her smudged cheek. Morgana smiled wetly at Merlin over his great uncle's shoulder as she returned the hug, and Merlin nearly couldn't stop the tears from coming right then and there.

"_You forgave him._" He whispered into her mind, perhaps more in awe of her than he had ever been.

"_For you, darling."_ She returned, giving him an affirming nod.

And of all the welcome home gifts Merlin could have received, having his family safe and whole again was the best present she could have ever given him.

###

Arthur Pendragon was at an impasse.

On one hand, he had already expressed his concern in the way men were supposed to, (the way _Mer_lin seemed oblivious to) gruff and distant. Well, it was how his father had mostly shown he cared when Arthur was growing up, so naturally it had to be the model for male behavior…

_Even if, sometimes, I think there has to be a better way…_

Arthur cut himself off the way he always did when his mind inevitably trailed down that well-worn road, and forced himself back to his current dilemma. Okay, he had already shown his idiot manservant he was glad that he was alive and there was no need to start sobbing girlishly like Merlin constantly seemed on the verge of since he had made it back.

On the other hand, Merlin had saved his life. _Again._ And as much as he wanted to just drop a list of made-up chores in his lap and reset their friendship (_Ugh, the 'f' word…)_ the idea rang wrong to him in the way it always had, but louder than ever before. That persistent little fire of conscience inside him- angrily sparked by Morgana, patiently nurtured by Merlin, lovingly fueled by his Guinevere- had finally had enough.

…On the other _other_ hand… saying 'thank you'… Father _never…_

_But what would Mother do?_

And with that sudden thought, Arthur made a decision. A seemingly small one, that may just change the world. He made the choice to be not Uther Pendragon's son, but _Ygraine_ Pendragon's.

"Everyone out."

Merlin broke off in shock in the middle of the long-winded tale of his and Morgana's escape that Arthur had been (rudely) ignoring, while Guinevere and Gaius sent him censuring looks (the former was particularly painful). Morgana's reaction was the most interesting, as she moved quickly in front of his manservant and gave Arthur a warning look. Oh yes, something was _obviously_ going on between them, the oddest couple in the world. Arthur had seen it coming from miles away; nothing got past his keen eyes.

"Arthur, what…?" Guinevere began gently in that honey soaked voice of hers, although with that slight edge of steel that he was (_Only a little!)_ afraid of. The prince felt himself flush self-consciously, feeling like a little boy again under her almost wise gaze as always. Vulnerability shouldn't feel this good…

"Erm, I need to speak to Merlin alone, please." He fought a further flush under their collective brow furrowing. "Just for a moment, if you don't mind…"

Merlin looked around at them bewilderedly, clueless as usual, before he caught Morgana's eye and a storm of wordless communication moved between them. Arthur nearly gasped (if he was prone to such indignities) at the obvious love between them… even as hard as he had been watching them, somehow he had missed _this._

"Of course, sire, just call us back in when you're done." His Guinevere said abruptly, hopping to her feet like a particularly beautiful rabbit. She gave him a knowing look, reminding him again just how transparent he was to her, before mustering her courage and capturing his lips with her own in front of everyone.

"Oh, my…" Morgana chuckled from somewhere off to the side, but he was far too preoccupied with the taste of her, like sugar and wine, cutting him to his core the way her mere presence always did. She gave him a promising look when she separated, before leading Gaius and Morgana into Merlin's room and locking the door dutifully behind her so they couldn't eavesdrop.

(Morgana's angry protest, understandably upset at the idea of leaving the man she apparently loved, was quickly quelled by a firm glance from his beloved. Guinevere could be quite the warrior when she wanted to be.)

And then, tragically, he was alone with Merlin.

Merlin fidgeted, scratching the shirt they had finally gotten him as if he wasn't used to wearing one anymore. He flashed that damn smile, idiotic and endearing and somehow able to curry the favor of whoever saw it. Arthur sighed mournfully, gathering himself to say something he had always felt but never before voiced to his best friend… because he knew now, that was what he was.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin blinked stupidly.

"Um, pardon?"

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur continued softly, and gave himself a mental pat on the back for actually managing to be sincere for once. "I didn't- if I had known there were bandits in the Darkling Woods that day, I would never have taken you hunting there."

"There's no way you could have known, Arthur." A flabbergasted Merlin said, trying to stealthily pinch himself to see if he was dreaming and, oh, _come on,_ this wasn't _that_ surprising coming from him, was it?

"I'm the prince, and it's my job to know everything that's happening in Camelot." Arthur replied harshly, trying to hide the guilt that had devoured him since Merlin had taken that blow in his stead. "If I had just paid more attention to the scout reports on my desk that morning…"

"You were a little busy trying to cheer me up." Merlin cut in, an odd firmness to his voice as if determined not to have Arthur feeling bad about himself. It made the prince feel oddly warm inside, annoyingly. "My moping was a _big_ distraction that morning, I remember."

Merlin's goofy smile faded a little as Arthur neglected to reply and just stared at him. It seemed like the short space between his cot and Merlin's seat was a vast gulf, and it had been there the whole time. Through foul Valiant and that braggart Cedric, through the flying dagger he was pulled away from by impossibly fast hands, through drinking poison for each other and fighting and laughing together…

There had always been that gulf. And it was long past time to close it.

_Because I'm not you, Father, not in this way._

"Thank you, Merlin." Arthur said seriously; graver than he had ever been in his life. "For everything."

And Merlin drew himself up and the smile dropped and suddenly he was seeing _that_ Merlin, the face that only briefly showed itself when they were facing down the hordes together. The man who hid behind the boy, waiting to pop out and dispense wisdom he shouldn't have. He nodded, touched beyond measure, and the rift nearly sealed itself. But nearly wasn't enough, and Arthur wasn't sure he could ever talk like this with Merlin again, so he brazenly latched onto the wild idea that came to him without a second thought.

Merlin stiffened in surprise under the ferocious hug he was suddenly the recipient of, and Arthur held it for the few seconds that he could before flushing and pushing him away like a leper. Merlin was smiling wider than he had ever seen, so bright it almost hurt, and he felt the rift slam shut and vanish without a trace.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I will eviscerate you." Arthur said warningly before calling for the others to return.

"I promise." Merlin solemnly vowed, enthusiastically breaking it the moment Morgana re-entered the room. "Honey, I just got blackmail material!"

###

**Core reviewer asdf alerted me to the fact that I've somehow been neglecting to use Arthur fucking Pendragon, so big thanks to you because that's a MAJOR problem I hadn't even noticed. Arthur is a central part of any fic involving Merlin, I'm not sure how I've accidentally avoided using him so far. Hell, I've given _Lancelot_ more page time up until now. I think maybe I was shying away from writing him because it's a bit difficult to get a handle on his character; the show leaves him in stasis constantly because they know if they develop him too much, we get closer to the Reveal, and apparently that thought scares them to death. -_- But I took the plunge and really enjoyed getting inside his head, especially getting a chance to show Arwen from a first-person perspective. I know I'm developing his relationship with her and with Merlin much more than in canon, but I guess that's kind of the point of this story, isn't it? Drop me a line and let me know how my Arthur was, because I'll be making a concerted effort to have him and Gwen actually be important from now on and I'd like to get it right. :p**

**I hope everybody enjoyed the fluffy reunions, because the countdown to the next roadblock begins here. ^_^  
**


	17. A Friend Indeed

"Do you truly have to go?"

Morgana smiled ruefully up at her husband where they stood at Gaius' doorway, a shrewd Gwen waiting far enough away in the hallway to give them the illusion of privacy. Those words had been like a mantra, slipping from her lips involuntarily each time he moved to get out of bed, looking rested and ruffled with the stupid bedhead that made her pulse quicken. And like she would do now, he would just smile that careful little smile made just to sooth her and reluctantly push himself out the door. It had been a wonderful week, one which would sustain her between the mere snippets they would have with each other from now on…

But there was no escaping real life anymore.

"I believe we've put this off as long as we can, love." She whispered back, taking in his resigned stare, holding back that great well of passion begging to be released. Oh, this was _hard_, harder than she'd thought, as if they were saying goodbye for a final time. "Word from the guards will have reached Uther by now, and I'd rather go to him than have him tear apart the castle looking for me."

Merlin gave her that certain twitch of the side of his mouth, the one that meant that he was worried for her, and she tried to fight the small smile growing at how well she knew the littlest things about him.

"What will you say to him?" Merlin began, darting a compulsory look back inside where Arthur and Gaius were deep in discussion and shooting quick looks back at them. Probably planning to ambush her poor husband about calling her 'honey' in public; the first time it had happened but hopefully not the last. It wasn't like she cared one way or the other who found out; she trusted everyone in that room to keep this secret for them… and besides, she couldn't let Gwen show her up by revealing her new relationship with Arthur so casually.

Merlin's worried sigh brought her back to reality, and his question.

"I'm not sure yet." Morgana chewed her lip briefly before immediately stopping because it was making him give her _that_ look; if he kept staring at her like that, she couldn't be held responsible for what she would do with him, an audience be damned. "I-It's not like this is the first time I've left Camelot for you."

"What, Ealdor?" Merlin said unconvinced, and she reflexively tightened her grip on her scabbard when she saw the flash of grief for his childhood friend sweep across a cobalt stare. "You were only one of a group, then, fighting to save an entire village; this time it was just you, all alone, putting your life on the line… to save _me."_

_Well, when you put it like that…_

"…At any rate, I've long ago learned to match wits with the king… and his edge is rather dulled, wouldn't you say?" She allowed herself a brief undignified laugh along with the one she dragged from him; the last time they would get to laugh like that for quite a while. "I promise you, I will find a way to divert his suspicions, love. You _will_ be safe."

Her husband shook his head in a brief storm of dark strands; she'd need to have a talk with him to make sure he didn't cut the hair that he had grown out in his absence. It was a good look for him, even though it covered those delectable ears… and she liked having something to hold onto when they were together.

"It's not me that I'm worried about, Morgana." Came Merlin's quiet aside in her ear, the slightest tinges of magic on his warm breath tickling her skin in the most delightful way. He had moved closer before his brain could stop himself, both of them knowing they were being watched and neither being able to bring themselves to care. She discreetly ran a finger over his in a 'down, boy' gesture, trying to expel sudden memories of his mouth gently teasing her earlobe while desperate hands fought to unlace her-

"_See, this is why we need to practice restraint."_ Merlin said smugly in her head, while trying not to look too aroused in front of the three still pretending not to know what was going on between them.

"_The only thing we need to _restrain_ is your damnable chastity."_ She fired back, giving him a promising glance from under her eyelashes which he fought to ignore.

"_I wasn't so chaste yesterday…"_ He said, sending her a long memory that nearly brought her to her knees. She laughed huskily against him before forcing herself to stumble back, nearly tripping on her own feet in her struggle against the urge to just throw herself against him. Merlin took the message himself, stepping clearly back after catching Arthur's horrified gaze. The poor man looked like he was about to vomit, and it seemed there were _some_ benefits to revealing this to the prince… such as using it to mess with his head.

"Stay safe, milady." Merlin said, deliberately using her title as he always had to signify an attempt to reset their relationship. This time she allowed it, if only because she knew it was only temporary. Of course, it was also because she couldn't deny the effect hearing him call her that had on her, even if it was meant in another light. Nobody else ran the two words together like that, moved their tongue over the words almost sensually, as if it were a term of endearment and not a sign of her status. He was trying to make the title have the same effect as it did from anyone else, a cold reminder of the position that isolated her from those she loved.

_And you fail, darling… because any word from your mouth at all just makes me fall deeper in love with you._

"I will see you tonight… _milord."_

And before he could react to that, before the burning red melted off his face, Morgana had tangled her fingers in deliciously messy hair and pulled him into a searing kiss.

"Oh, dear…" Gaius mumbled from inside, where Arthur was making gagging noises that she honestly didn't think were just for show.

"Oh, _my…."_ She heard Gwen coo delightedly.

When she finally pulled away, the taste of him still vibrating on her swollen lips, she took a second to absorb his well-snogged face, committing to memory every little detail that she loved until she could see him again. And then, lingering just a moment to allow him the same courtesy, she fought her own feet into leaving him step-by-step. And after all this time, after laughing and hurting and _loving_ together, every day… it was the hardest battle she had ever fought.

_One thing is for sure though,_ she mused as she held Merlin's warm gaze until he was out of sight. _I do love having something to grab onto._

###

_Milord._

Merlin repeated the title in his head again. The euphoria it brought still hadn't worn off.

Clearly, he needed to stop trying to pull back on the depth of his relationship with Morgana because it only caused her to push harder and totally blow him out of the water. This whole 'restraint' thing was going to be a problem, and that was probably the first time that particular thought had ever crossed his mind.

Merlin was blind to Gwen's parting looks, her shock and elation; the whole world falling away until all he could see was Morgana's last loving stare. He reminded himself again to be grateful for having her, for even _knowing_ her; this amazing, ferocious, _infuriating_ madwoman. The same sentiment was reaching out to him through glassy green eyes, and it floored him that _she_ could ever feel thankful for finding _him._

His train of thought ended abruptly as she passed the corner of the hall, leaving only Gwen's excited cry of "I _knew_ it!" to echo in the halls.

And he was alone again.

The blue bracelet, woven from torn silk held together by pure magic, seemed to tingle on his arm in protest. Oh, _of course_ he wasn't alone. He would never be alone again.

_Milord._

Merlin ran his hands through the slight curls at the back of his head, strands still reeling from her fierce grasp on them. No one had ever… _respected_ him enough to call him something like that, not even in jest. And the best part was, she wasn't jesting. Bit by bit, her utmost faith in him was eroding lifelong feelings of inadequacy… as if the more time he spent with her, the more confident- _powerful-_ he felt. She knew him, intimately, (_Very intimately)_ saw things in himself even he couldn't and then dragged them up from where he had buried them; brought them _alive._

For the first time in his life, he actually felt worthy of his powers… and it was all because of loving her.

"Gods, I'm glad I married that woman." He said dreamily. _Now if only I knew how to feel worthy of _her.

"You _what?"_

_Ah, yes, I almost forgot…_

"Um, n-now, sire," Merlin began carefully as he shut the door and turned to face a disapproving physician and a prince on the edge of stroke. "It's not like I've never, err, expressed certain _feelings_ towards her-"

Arthur looked like was about to combust, but thankfully seemed at a loss for words. Unthankfully, Gaius was always there to get in a censured word or two.

"_Merlin,_ I can't believe you…" The old man stopped and started as he struggled to find his words. "No, actually, I can _completely_ believe you would be this impulsive."

Merlin gave a helpless little shrug because, hey; when he was right, he was right.

"Please tell me the two of you didn't… consummate."

Merlin remained silent, and quickly jumped at Arthur's wordless shout and slid in-between him and the examination table where his two swords lay before Arthur could get to them. Not out of fear that he would actually use them, but he knew Arthur was prone to hitting things with blades when he was upset and he didn't want him to break Lancelot's old broadsword in his… enthusiasm.

"Merlin, how could you be so foolish?" Gaius was shouting now from the corner of the room, as if he was right next to him and not safely away from Arthur's growing fury. "What if you had gotten her pregnant? If the king finds out, he'll-"

"I love her!" Merlin shouted back, finally breaking eye contact with Arthur to shift his gaze to Gaius, and continued more softly. "Alright? I love her, and she loves me. Whatever happens, _my wife and I_ will figure something out."

He decided not to admit to the growing panic at his mention of pregnancy, because if they had thought about that they had never voiced it and, oh Gods, _what if she was-_

"How could you _keep_ this from me?" Arthur yelled suddenly, causing both Merlin and Gaius across the room to take an involuntary pace back. Merlin was still reeling from Arthur's apology, thank you, and hug; now suddenly it felt like he was back in Arthur's chambers being sacked for making him look bad in front of Valiant. It hit him then that the prince wasn't angry about the kiss so much as was about the _lie,_ a fact which reminded him of the tens of thousands of other lies that still needed revealing. He felt a quick bolt of fear lace through him at the idea.

Seeing Merlin gaping like a fish under his master's harsh glare, Gaius heroically stepped in.

"Sire, Merlin is obligated to take your orders," He began, gently but sternly in that way he had of making people feel incredible guilty for something they normally wouldn't. Years of practice on Uther had refined the technique until it was razor sharp. "But nowhere in his job description does it say that he is to tell you _everything._"

Arthur kept his hard gaze on Merlin's, who was quickly realizing that he wasn't feeling nearly as devastated as he had the last few times Arthur had been… _disappointed_ in him. Still, his eyes were softening imperceptibly, and they flickered in Gaius' direction for a brief second.

"I-I don't like secrets, Gaius, not from my _servants._" He said haltingly, throwing the word out as if trying to brush over his earlier open recognition of their friendship; and that was _not_ going to happen. Merlin felt his face slacken as he realized what was _really_ going on, could hear the betrayal in the prince's voice even from afar. Arthur had just opened up more than he ever had with Merlin, and now was trying to erase the breakthrough they had just made because he thought Merlin was unfairly not returning the favor.

Merlin backed up slightly under Arthur's glare until he bumped up against the table, his hand accidentally landing on Lancelot's scabbard. His feelings of giving in, of letting Arthur be angry and hurt and go back to business as usual for them while he tried to pretend Merlin wasn't his friend, vanished with a single touch from the nicked old weapon. The other sword was just one he had been given to fight with, but _this _one was the very code that Lancelot had lived by; a sworn oath to do what was right and never give up. And his old friend had entrusted that code to him.

_I know this is right, and I _won't_ give up._ Merlin wasn't about to let Lancelot- or Arthur- down. _Because I've already lost two brothers, and I won't let another roll back the clock on our friendship._

It was uncomfortably similar to what he kept trying with Morgana, but thankfully, he knew just how to cut it off. Just one hard push…

"Maybe it's time you learned that some secrets need to be kept, Arthur."

Gaius actually looked gobsmacked at that, thinning hair swishing as he looked back and forth between Arthur's angry grimace and Merlin's own resolved face.

He wasn't that boy anymore, desperate for his best friend's acknowledgement. Morgana had changed him when he wasn't looking, or maybe he had always been this and she had just had to show it to him. Either way…

"Because I'm not your servant, Arthur…" Merlin said, proud of the steady firmness in his voice. "I'm your _friend."_

_I'm your equal._

He was aware in his peripheral of Gaius rapidly approaching a heart attack at his words, but he remained fixed on Arthur; his destiny, the other half of his coin… those words still held true, even if they felt more applicable to his new wife now. And slowly, like the sun peeking over the hills, came regret and concession and even respect, before it was all gone behind the firm mask of the knight errant. Merlin felt only a moment of annoyance before Arthur seemed to realize what had just instinctively done and dropped it, clumsily offering an olive branch.

"I- yes." He whispered almost shyly, unable to say anymore with another pair of eyes watching them. Merlin took the words for the apology that it was- it was all he could offer right now- and gave his friend a proud smile. He had come a long way from the dagger-throwing prat, and even further since they had met up again. And for the first time since Cedric and Sigan, Merlin felt his newly repaired friendship- _brotherhood-_ actually growing to new heights.

Gaius just furrowed his brow at the two, now smiling warmly at each other.

"…Honestly, I don't think _anyone_ will ever understand you both."

###

Gwen had never been happier in her life.

"You're in _love!"_

"…Yes, Gwen, we established this during your first few hundred repetitions of that." Her lady said in amused exasperation, and she knew she was going a bit overboard again and she really should stop rambling, but…

Oh, but she just couldn't help herself. This was- was- _spectacular!_ Her two best friends, together! It was wonderful, because she had been starting to worry that they would feel like third wheels now that she and Arthur were together; well, nearly together, sometimes she wasn't sure _where_ they stood and he could be so obtuse sometimes. She knew she was spacing out again when Morgana gave her a patient look from tired lime eyes.

"We're here, Gwen." She said in relief as she moved to unlock the heavy door to her chambers. Gwen swallowed a four-hundredth exclamation of Merlin and Morgana's love as she followed her lady inside the spacious chambers where she was already throwing off her dirty nightshirt. The dark haired woman abruptly stopped short, staring at a spot on the floor with a faraway look in her eyes.

It barely took a moment for Gwen to realize what she was looking at. She sidled up to her lady- her _friend-_ as quietly as possible and took her hand gently, waiting for her to talk.

"This is where you held me." Morgana rasped finally, still staring at the spot on the rug where she and Arthur had clung to her like the world was ending while she screamed and cried harder than they had ever heard. "You and Arthur, I mean. I've, um, never thanked you, have I?"

Gwen shot her a reproaching look, one she had been refining on Arthur whenever he did something beneath him, and from her lady's slight wince it must have been working.

"You'd never have to, my lady." She said, with conviction. Morgana nodded gratefully and went back to staring, remembering the day that she had seemingly lost Merlin… lost the man she _loved._ Gwen joined her in her silence, knew better than anyone what it was like to break down in grief… had her spots on the floor where she would collapse with no one to hold her.

Except one time, someone did…

"_Guinevere, wait!"_

_She hated the way he said her name._

_It always made her stop in her tracks, made her freeze with a staggering awe and need, which in this case was very annoying because she was trying to _outpace_ him and her body just wasn't cooperating. Arthur was catching up to her now, the clanking of his chainmail echoing in the empty corridor of the high tower she had ran to._

"_I-I'm sorry, sire, I have laundry to do…" She bit out shakily in between held in sobs, trying as hard as she could not to break down in front of him. The king's mad stare, preceding the tinges of remorse that he _dared_ show to her, dominated her vision, made her wonder..._

_...Were those terrible eyes the last sight her father had seen?_

"_I-I'm sorry, Guinevere." Arthur said behind her, so careful and soft and- no, not loving, don't go there. Whatever attraction was between them, it couldn't be that… she would never be so lucky. "Bringing up your father's death… it was wrong of me. I only wanted to make my father see sense… so that he wouldn't kill all these people he thinks attacked Morgana when they could be innocent."_

_Gwen shook her head as tears threatened to fall, still stubbornly not facing him._

"_You think it matters to him?" She began hollowly, feeling the familiar grief beginning to well up. "Your father doesn't care if they're innocent or not Arthur, doesn't care if they're just seamstresses or barkeeps or-or blacksmiths-"_

_Before she collapsed, before the first tear even dropped from her eyelashes, strong arms were spinning her around and burying her into a kiss._

"_I'm sorry." Arthur was whispering between the meetings of their lips, the inner light that he kept buried shining through in full, all for her. _Just_ for her. It wasn't a chaste kiss, nor was it a lustful one. It was a promise, simple and pure, that she would never be alone again. "I'm sorry, and I love you, Guinevere."_

_Gwen collapsed against him, clutching this man for all he was worth._

_She loved the way he said her name._

"I'm in love with Arthur."

Morgana broke from her reverie to stare wide eyed at her, her surprise quickly seceding into amusement.

"Of course you are, Gwen." She said with that grin, the almost goofy Morgana smile that once only she could bring out of her. "As I love Merlin."

"I'm not surprised to hear that." Gwen laughed, before sobering. "I've never seen you more devastated, than when we thought Merlin was-"

"Don't say it." Morgana cut in, and before she turned away to unlace her trousers, Gwen caught the edges of a strange terror in her eyes that somehow went beyond the simple reminder of what she had thought she lost. "Please, Gwen, can't we talk of something else? Tell me what you and Arthur have been up to, update me on Sir Leon's affair with the cook, tease me mercilessly… just, please…"

Gwen gave her quiet ascent, watched the bare back that remained stubbornly turned from her and remembered doing the same to Arthur over a month ago. She knew unbearable grief when she saw it, and quietly accepted it all the same. Because that was what Gwen did for her lady, since the moment they had first met all those years ago; silently offered her a shoulder, even when she didn't know what Morgana's tears were for.

Even with new priorities, new relationships, they still accepted each other, as naturally as ever before. Morgana and Gwen… _sisters._

…_But why would you be grieving for Merlin, my lady?_

"…No, not this."

Gwen broke out of her thoughts to shoot a confused glance at Morgana; she had just made to remove the last article of clothing on her only for Morgana to clasp a shaking hand over it. It was a sky blue band of worn silk tied around her wrist so tightly she thought it must hurt, and she was clutching at it as if it was the most precious stone in the world.

"…Never this, Gwen…"

As if it was a wedding ring, in fact.

_Oh._

"Oh!"

Morgana smiled sheepishly as she moved to slip into the bathtub.

"I'm sorry we didn't invite you to the wedding."

Gwen was far too excited to be embarrassed when Sir Leon came knocking to ask what all the gleeful squealing was about.

###

The doors opened wide into the throne room, and there sat Uther Pendragon.

Morgana squared her shoulders and stood tall, trying to get used to the feel of the expensive white and silver gown lacing her instead of rough mensclothes. Despite that, she was glad to have returned to the life of luxury, back to baths and perfumes and hair meticulously braided by dark skinned hands far more skilled than her own. The only thing she resented about making herself beautiful was the knowledge that she was doing it for _him._

And all that fell away when the king, her nightmare made flesh, caught her eye from across the empty chamber and suddenly he was up and _running_ towards her, and despite herself she was running to meet him with a grin splitting her face. Because this was _her_ Uther, the loving second father who never missed an opportunity to show her how appreciated she was, the kind man drowning beneath lunatic waves.

"My child!"

Morgana accepted his embrace, returned it with all the might she could muster and buried her face in his shoulder because she had missed this man so, _so much._ That, she knew now, was why it hurt so much to see him become everything she loathed.

That was why it hurt so much to see him pull away, look into his metallic eyes, and know that all of a sudden it wasn't him anymore.

"We need to talk about your dalliance with Arthur's manservant."

Her heart broke and repaired itself in an instant with the knowledge of just who he truly was… and what they were _both_ capable of.

_And I will kill you before you ever touch him, Father._

###

**Dipping my toe into the Gwen POV pool... what do you think? I realize this is two chapters in a row with some heavy Arwen but I don't want anybody to start worrying about them taking screen time away from our alpha couple. I love them, but they aren't what this story is about. Still, I wanted to show why their relationship is so much more progressed at this point than in canon; the flashback in question is a missing scene from chapters 3 and 4, and afterwards their whole "it can never be" shield was damaged beyond repair. Do you think I did them justice? Also, the Morgwen friendship is so much more normal than the Merthur one, I just had to try to contrast them. The girls are just like "yay, you're in love" while the boys are... _insane,_ but hey, nobody understands the way they talk to each other like they do. Still, they are stronger people now, in different ways, and I wanted to show how that would strengthen their bond as well. Hope everybody liked it and it wasn't too OOC. ^_^  
**


	18. Great Expectations

Morgana knew certain things were expected of her.

It came as no surprise to her, even at a young age. She was born a woman and therefore disadvantaged in the eyes of menfolk, useful only for satisfying bodily urges and birthing heirs. Still she railed against it, at the prompting of her mother and the quiet encouragement of her father, and aimed to be more than just a pretty thing to be sold. That want, that _need,_ only grew the day of her mother's passing from the plague; become an all-encompassing drive to make her memory proud.

"I am going to grow up to be a knight, father, just like you!"

And Gorlois, with his salt-and-peppered hair and rough beard, would break his grumpy shell as he always did for her, and sweep her tiny form up into a tearful hug.

"Then I will be honored to fight alongside you, my little squire."

And so she fought, in spars and in conversation and even in her sleep, striking back at everything that dared to think it could impose its will on her. And she only hit harder when her father passed as well, and she was dragged away to live at a strange castle with a stuffy king trying to replace him. Until on the eve of her thirteenth birthday, Uther had pulled Morgana aside and informed her in no uncertain terms that she was no longer allowed to spar with the knights.

"You are a lady of the court now, Morgana." He had said sympathetically, if sternly, when she had countered with the quivering lip that had usually gotten her way with him. "There are certain things that are expected of you."

"I _know_ that." She had shot back archly, blushing furiously when Uther laughed at her voice breaking.

"I don't think you do, child." Uther had his hands on her shoulders now, and it was moments like those that had gnawed at her, the moments when it seemed as if the line between "guardian" and "new father" blurred. "There is a… natural order to things, one that must be preserved. Men fight, women care. And I know you want things to be different, Morgana, but this is the way of the world."

Her only response had been to stomp on his foot and run off to go beat up Arthur.

'_The way of the world'._ She thought. _Amusing, how similar you are to the other paranoid monster in this castle, clinging to words like 'destiny' and 'nature'._

Battle was her relationship with this man; two knights swinging and parrying with words and ideals at every turn, two people with such opposite perspectives that they could never get along fully, no matter how much they loved one another. After all their warfare, it was no wonder the idea of simply killing him to be free rang true to her, called to her only because he had _drilled_ violence into her. Because the need to be more burned bright in her from a young age, and the need to make others less had consumed Uther Pendragon long ago. They were father and daughter, champion and challenger, a fist meant to crush and a hand meant to lift. Opposites.

Merlin was her opposite too, but in all the ways that she needed. The differences in him found ways to challenge her, not to give up the things she believed in, but to refine and sharpen them. Uther's opposition sought to crush the things that meant anything to her… until she was just like him.

_Because in your world, anything different from yourself is sickly, and must be healed… or cleansed._

But Merlin did not want her to become his mirror. Her poor husband probably thought too lowly of himself to ever want that for anyone, much less the woman he loved; not like the arrogant ruler who boasted about dragon slaying. And it had nearly killed her, the very first time she had realized that she had found what she had been missing; someone who wanted her to be _more_ just as badly as she did.

"Morgana, say something."

And here she was with his hands on her shoulders again, fatherly and yet commanding, silently contemplating just plunging the dagger hidden up her sleeve into his chest. She remembered all the good days with him, and how they were overshadowed by the steady weight of his _expectations_ on her back, and thought that she could live with them now. Because she had Merlin, who only ever expected her to be the best version of herself that she could, who had always thought she was _more_ than a killer…

Having tasted that, there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep Uther from taking him from her.

Having tasted that, there was nothing she wouldn't do to make Merlin proud.

And so, instead of drawing her blade, she simply laughed in his face.

"I- Morgana, what…?" Uther sputtered, while she continued to guffaw hysterically in front of him. She kept it up for a good half-minute to allow his confusion to reach fever pitch before finally speaking.

"You think I- with _Merlin?"_ She laughed, compartmentalizing the part of her rushing to disembowel anything that insulted her husband, even if it was herself. "Good God- my lord, the boy's a _beanpole!"_

Uther was trying valiantly to compose his face into a harsh scowl, though she could see the corner of thin lips twitching up and she pushed down harder on the urge to cut his black heart out. The number of times she had seen him take amusement at her beloved's expense only made her loathing swell.

"That may be true, but you _did_ risk your life for him."

Morgana allowed herself to sober, but kept a flummoxed smile on her face as if she couldn't believe what was suggesting.

"Yes, that's because he's my _friend._" She allowed a snort to break through her facade. "Not my- ha!- _lover._"

Uther crossed his arms firmly, staring her down as if his eyes could sift and pulp the truth out of her. He would fail, Morgana was proud to say, because she had always been an exquisite liar. And because, somewhere along the way, Merlin had taught her how to restrain herself, keep her temper in check in a way she never could before him.

"I'm glad to hear that." Uther drawled, unconvinced. "The boy is quite the fool… and rather unappealing to look at, if I may say so."

"Yes, quite." Morgana said without missing a beat, savoring the twitching of his eye below his prominent scar. _You cannot bait me anymore, butcher._

"You were… adamant about mounting a rescue, when news of the servant's capture came in." Uther continued suspiciously, dropping the charade.

"As was Arthur, and Gaius as well if I may add."

"Gaius is cursed to have that boy for a ward, and despite the… _unnaturalness_… of my son's attachment to him, I do understand how they could forge something akin to a bond facing such dangers together." Uther said measuredly, dropping out the words as if they were something foul smelling. "But you are a lady of Camelot- _my_ ward- and have no such interaction with him. Tell me now, in your own words, how someone so distant from your station could become a _friend._"

"You don't believe a man and a woman could share simple friendship?" Morgana said tightly, after a dizzying second of rejecting and reformulating replies until she found the one that didn't sound like an attack. "Or a noble and a servant?"

"Not enough to risk one's life, _no."_ Uther replied, seemingly determined to degenerate the discussion into a fight, as always. Morgana nearly rocked back on her heels, realizing that as much as this was about the bounds of propriety, Uther was even more incensed by the danger she had put herself in. Looking now at the clear concern he was unable to hide, she actually felt a flash of guilt; it was the second month in a row in which she had been taken into the heart of danger, and she understood now how terrified the man could be about losing the few he loved. It was a fear she shared.

_No, stop that this instant Morgana!_ She shouted at herself, as if trying to ring the sympathy she was feeling from her own heart. _This man will _kill_ Merlin, right in front of you!_

"Merlin saved Arthur's life." Morgana bristled as she said it, trying to fight down an oncoming rant about exactly how far the debt they all owed her husband went… and only partially succeeding. "Twice, and once sacrificing his own life for him. That same instance averted a full escalation of war with Mercia and thwarted a sorcerer's plan."

She didn't miss the odd grimace on face… it looked strangely similar to the one on Merlin's face whenever they skirted around a subject she was beginning to think was named Nimueh.

"He has also helped Arthur and Gaius however he could in their endeavors to save lives, and willingly went to his death for his mother and his village." She continued firmly, fighting to keep the snarl out of her voice as she willed the king to just _wake up,_ and realize that the true hero of this story deserved so much better from him. "And when he and Arthur were overwhelmed last week, he took a blow meant to kill Arthur and got himself captured in his place. Merlin is my _friend,_ sire, because despite his many, many faults, above all else he is a man of honor and sacrifice. Traits you have taught me to value, and to reward."

Morgana lifted her chin and went for the killing blow.

"As you told me once; men fight, and woman care. Well I took it upon myself to care for him when he fought… because no one else would." She allowed a cruel smile to split her face at her love's expense, one that she would be beating herself up about for months to come. "He's certainly not about to get any other woman to care for him, now is he?"

Uther was gripping his sleeves until his knuckles were white, looking at her as if trying to decide between calling her a liar and having to actually admit that she was right. Morgana held her breath, traitorous fingers inching closer towards the hilt in her sleeve, _just in case…_

"I… acknowledge the boy's surprising dedication." He said finally, allowing her to discretely exhale in relief and look puzzled at his softening gaze. "And I am proud… yes, _proud,_ of your integrity. You have grown into a beautiful noblewoman, Morgana, with a heart that goes out to those we hardened old warriors may overlook, and the strength to fight for them when they have no other."

Morgana smiled awkwardly, trying not to show how (annoyingly) touched she was… and how unnerving it was to watch him switch personality so smoothly; another uncomfortable reminder of the parallels between her guardian and the beast that lurked beneath the castle.

"That being said," Uther hardened his face yet again. "I _will not_ have two members of my household running off on fool quests for a scatter-brained servant. And if you ever put yourself at risk for him again, I will banish the boy from these lands without a second thought."

Morgana bit down on the angry part of her that wanted to protest and the terrified part of her that wanted to say that the second option would be wonderful, thank you, please get the man she loved as far away from his killer as possible. (Though she knew now that they were both far too selfish to live without each other.) Instead, she simply gave him a frown- because after everything she had just said anything but displeasure would be suspicious- and a firm nod.

Uther brightened as they closed the door on their battle, looking very relieved that she had not had her virtue stolen by a peasant as he had thought. (As funny as it would be, she decided not to inform him that Merlin had already had her; again, and again, and _again…_)

"I think that this calls for a feast!" Uther said with an almost childlike clasp of his hands that she smiled warmly at, knowing how the king would use almost any excuse to throw a celebration. She wondered suddenly if creating such illusions of joy was the closest he could come to it anymore.

"Oh, wonderful!" She cooed girlishly, playing up 'the materialistic princess' role that he kept trying to fit her in. "I shall wear my best dress!"

"…It's not that strapless burgundy gown that sows chaos throughout the court, is it?" He said disapprovingly.

"Well _of course_ it's not!" (It was.)

Uther smiled fondly at her, a rare smile that made all the lines on his face vanish and the madness in his eyes retreat somewhere unknown. She smiled back just as bright if a little sadder, because it was becoming very clear to her that this man was indeed insane enough to be both loved and hated. On impulse, perhaps at the nudging from the part of her mourning the loss of the gentle king she had never known, she pulled him into a bittersweet hug that he returned fiercely.

_Oh, I hope I don't have to kill you._

"I was so worried for you, my child." His voice, almost cracking around unvoiced sobs, broke her from her reminiscing on the man he had been before his wife had passed. "With all the chaos in the skies, lately, I thought I may have lost you for good this time."

Morgana blinked in surprise, dully noting that it was one of Merlin's cute/annoying gestures that she was beginning to pick up.

"What chaos?"

Uther pulled back to give her a disbelieving look.

"The earthquakes, the hurricanes, the _meteor showers?_ All of Albion has been- _why are you laughing?"_

###

Annabelle the laundry maid was in love with a man who barely noticed her.

She couldn't even bear to look at him today, ducking behind honeyed curls whenever he stopped whatever mad errand the prince had him on long enough to say hello. It was a nightmare worse than any she'd had in her sixteen years alive; how could she ever confess her feelings to her one true love if she was too scared to even wave back?

Minnie the head cook, a boisterous woman still stubbornly working in the kitchens despite on her way towards her fifth child, found the whole thing hilarious.

"Oh, Annie, of all the people you've decided to crush on this week, why did it have to be _that _boy?" She giggled, in-between yelling at Deanna and Esther for letting the steak burn in order to gossip. "And you're too shy to admit it, to boot! If you want him, you've got to show him. That's how I got my man…"

And then Minnie went off on one of those really lewd but kind of sweet stories about her "two-fisted" courtship with her husband, leaving Annabelle to her thoughts.

_It's not a crush!_ She thought firmly. _I'm in _really real love_ this time! Granted, I thought that about the prince and Sir Leon and that fake knight Lancelot and even the king for a while there… but I know true love when I feel it! And the next time I see him, I'll show him!_

As if on cue, Merlin the manservant stumbled into the kitchens where they had been gossiping about him and everyone immediately stopped and stared.

"Um…you weren't all talking about me, now were you?" He said with that singular smile of his, lighting up the entire room. "Because I know I've been gone for a while, but you didn't miss anything interesting, I promise!"

"Heya, Merlin, good timing!" Minnie said cheerfully. "Annie has something she's been meaning to tell you."

And then the traitorous chef gave Annabelle a thumbs-up and actually _pushed_ her towards him. Only she overshot and sent her colliding with the object of her affections (this week), and before she knew it they were a tangle of limbs on the floor.

"Oops, sorry, ya'll alright?" Came the sarcastic cry from somewhere behind her, accompanied by Deanna and Esther's snickers, but Annabelle was too busy staring into the intense pair of blue eyes right in front of her. She was practically straddling him, dimly aware of her not-insubstantial chest beginning to spill out of her corset, more concerned by the fact that he didn't even seem to notice.

"Agh, sorry, are you alright?" Merlin laughed deeply from under her, giving her face a quick once over for any bruises, and she decided that Mother's advice was full of- oh that was a bad word, never mind. Just because someone didn't linger on your lips when looking at you doesn't mean that they don't want to kiss you or-or ravish you, like in the novels!

"F-f-fine…" She managed to get out finally, nearly collapsing under the weight of actually talking to her future husband.

"Good!" He said cheerfully, looking at her a bit weirdly- oh, he must think her dim! "Would you mind giving me my hips back now, Annabelle?"

Annabelle yelped as she realized that her hands had been firmly grasping his hipbones for support, but before she could remove them….

"Yes, _Annabelle,_ would mind giving him his hips back now?"

The Lady Morgana herself was looming in the kitchen doorway, looking resplendent and powerful and utterly _terrifying._ Far from the awe or fear that most men gave the lady, Merlin just smiled brightly from his spot under her.

"This isn't anywhere close to what it looks like." He said, ignoring Annabelle entirely.

"I-it could be, though!" The young maid closed her eyes tight the second it slipped out, partially because she couldn't believe she had actually said that out loud, but mostly because the Lady Morgana's eyes had moved from warmly regarding the servant on the floor to glaring murderously in her direction. Blushing, she scrambled to get off of Merlin, who brushed himself down with long, elegant fingers as he stood.

"Milady." He said, and Annabelle chewed her lip at the way he ignored everything to look at Morgana as if she was the only one in the room; clearly yet another man besotted by her. "What can we do for you?"

"Arthur suggested you to help us prepare for the feast being thrown in my honor." She said primly, and Annabelle stiffened at the way she looked at Merlin in exactly the same way he was looking at her. That absolute _hussy,_ how dare she lead her man on like that?

"A feast, ooh!" Merlin laughed. "Let's head off then; it was nice seeing you, Annabelle."

"Yes, _nice seeing you,_ Annabelle." Morgana said in a darkly promising tone that nearly sent everyone in the room recoiling into the nearest corner. Annabelle almost had a stroke when saw Morgana leading Merlin out of the room with a possessive hand on the small of his back, an evil smirk thrown over her shoulder.

"Ah, well, better luck next time." Minnie shrugged as she turned back to her stew.

Annabelle shivered. Maybe it would be safer to fall in really real love this time with the king…

###

Merlin gave her one of those delectable throaty laughs as she pushed him hard into a dark corridor and crashed her lips down onto his.

"Eager, are we?" He taunted when she allowed his tongue out of her mouth, the hands she craved rubbing enticing circles into her hips with infuriating slowness.

"That _fat whore_ was moving in on my territory." She growled against his mouth as she slipped her hands under his clothes, finding that his extended shirtlessness had given her an irrational hatred of the garment in question. "I need to stake my claim; you understand?"

Merlin gave an equally playful laugh back, hoisting her up until she could wrap her legs around him and banging her back deliciously against the stone. His face hovered inches below hers, eyes studying the contours of her lips as if they were the most fascinating things in the world. Her breath quickened at that thought, and the thought of how many hours it had been since she had last claimed him. A slow, deliberate smile spread across his face- the smug bastard knew exactly what he was doing to her- before her coarse words finally caught up with him.

"Wait- she is _not_ fat, Morgana!" He said laughingly, as if he could taste the pangs of her jealously on the air.

"You can't deny she's a bit… topheavy…" Morgana heard herself mutter, because the stupid girl's chest was a little difficult to miss even by her standards and _no,_ that was not insecurity in her voice, shut up!

"I didn't notice." Merlin said huskily, and she knew he felt her heart skip a beat at the unvarnished truth in that statement. "The only bodice I find myself staring down is yours."

His clumsy flirting somehow thrilled her just as much as his using _that_ certain tone of voice, but all gawkiness vanished in the next second as full lips lowered to brush against the swell of her breasts and oh, _oh,_ this was a terrible idea.

The thought must have reached him because his grip on her tightened in defiance, and he made an almost animalistic sound against her flushed cleavage. Oh, was this _ever_ a bad idea.

A loud crash from the end of the corridor saw her husband throwing himself flat against the opposite wall of the alcove, eyes wild with lust darting around in fear of anyone who had seen them. She held her breath for a moment, both in anticipation and to stop Merlin from watching the rise and fall of her chest before they began again something they really shouldn't be doing. Thankfully, it was soon revealed to be the very pregnant and very angry cook, throwing what looked like a burned black steak at a pair of women.

"Well… that was very stupid of us, wasn't it?"

Merlin smiled sheepishly in response, and they just stood there for a moment, allowing that certain tension they had become familiar with since their marriage to subside as much as it could.

"How did it go with Uther?"

"Well enough. I swear that old goat will drive me mad sooner than my dreams will." Morgana replied with a long suffering sigh that drew a chuckle from still swollen lips. "We'll have to be careful from now on, but you're safe, Merlin."

"Oh, careful like just now?" Merlin said insufferably, and she crossed her arms and tossed her hair.

"That was a special situation." She huffed.

"You were _jealous,_ that was the situation." He sniggered, looking absolutely delighted at the thought and she was torn between the urges to punch him and snog him, both equally strong.

"_Anyway,_" Morgana said, in her special discussion-ending tone that seemed to have no effect on him anymore. "There's a feast tonight, and I want you to wear something nice."

"...What's wrong with this?" Merlin frowned, genuinely confused as he looked down at his ratty clothes and then back up at her.

"Oh, my lovely fool." She laughed warmly and caressed his cheek, savoring the little tremor than ran through his body. "It'll be a lot of work… but I think I'll make a fashionable man out of you yet."

Merlin glared at her sideways.

"…I'm not going to start dressing like Arthur, am I?"

###

Morgana was fashionably late to the whole affair that night, which for once wasn't intentional as tailoring new clothes with Merlin kept getting interrupted by… _other_ activities. Still, the effect was as pleasing as always; the party was already in full swing when her entrance was announced and every face in the room locked onto her with undisguised want. It was vain of her, but she loved being the center of attention, of knowing that every man wanted to have her and every woman wanted to be her; and worse, that they never would.

(Uther caught her eye as she sat next to him, rolling his eyes at the dress he had specifically forbidden for exactly this reason. She just smiled courteously as if she had no idea what his complaint was.)

But as the night went on, Morgana concluded, there was something else that she enjoyed even more than all eyes on her. And that was the sight of Merlin, looking more beautiful than ever, fighting off a constant stream of female admirers. (And some male, come to think of it.)

It was his own fault really, rubbing that little tart's lust for him in her face. _Annabelle_ was trying very hard not to stare open mouthed at the fitted tunic she had acquired for Merlin, the soot black matching the color of his hair and making his eyes stand out in even sharper relief than normal. She hadn't wanted to make too big a fuss with Merlin's little makeover; not enough to get him noticed by Uther (though his glaring eyes had searched out the manservant the second she entered) but just enough to get him noticed by everyone else. She smiled into her goblet as he shrugged helplessly while a forthright elderly lord chatted him up.

"_I don't understand how this isn't driving you crazy with jealousy, wife."_ Merlin threw at her resentfully from across the room.

"_Oh it is, husband, but it's worth it to see you squirm."_ Morgana replied roguishly. _"You look stunning, by the way."_

Merlin blushed and ducked his head, which the lord seemed to take as encouragement.

Yes, despite the fact that _anyone_ showing interest in Merlin was going to make her want to stab them terribly, she wanted everyone there to understand exactly how beautiful he was. In this small way, at least, he would finally be acknowledged. Of course, there was the bonus of making the foolish upper crust lust after someone they could never have. As much as she loved holding a crowd's attention, watching poor insecure _Merlin_ hold that attention made her sing. Because as he wanted her to be more than she was, so she wanted to see her husband become the whirlwind force she knew he could be.

"_They'll all know one day, my love."_ She thought at him. _"How special you are."_

Her red-faced husband opened his mouth to reply and immediately shut it as Uther moved to stand. A hush fell over the room, the usual mix of fear and love that the king garnered from Camelot's people.

"Gracious guests." He began, prompting her to share an eyeroll with Arthur on his father's other side. "We are here tonight, not just to celebrate my ward's safe return from her travels-"

He was cut off by an eruption of cheers and applause, nearly making her blush. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how beloved she was in Camelot, even if most of it was entirely shallow. Merlin gave her an adoring smile from where he stood beside a clapping Gwen, whistling for her.

"…But there is also another reason we are celebrating." Uther continued, and what was he-

Call it déjà vu, or women's intuition, or even the tiniest flash of Seer insight; but suddenly Morgana knew exactly what was about to happen.

"_You are a lady of the court now, Morgana." He had said sympathetically, if sternly, when she had countered with the quivering lip that had usually gotten her way with him. "There are certain things that are expected of you."_

And she knew that she should have seen this coming earlier, knew Uther was scared of losing her and scared of her being sullied by 'lesser' men. She should have known he would act to ensure neither would ever happen if push past his breaking point.

"Tonight I am very pleased to announce, at long last, the engagement of the Lady Morgana and Prince Arthur!"

And amongst the screaming cheers from people who had been expecting this for far too long, amongst Uther looking at her with sorrow and conviction and Arthur and Gwen sharing horrified looks, her eyes met Merlin's and recoiled at the devastation she found in them.

"_Oh, my love…"_ She managed to get to him, before Uther was pulling her and her foster brother to their feet to present them, like dual sacrifices to the mob.

But Merlin was already gone.

###

**There's a lot of random commentary I could add here, but instead I 'll just go ahead and voice what I know you're all thinking.**

**"Eidolon, you _little shit!"_  
**

**:)  
**


	19. Trouble in Paradise

Morgana had first met Arthur on the worst day of her life.

One would think that day would have been the day she witnessed the nurse come out of her mother's bedroom, shaking her head mournfully; or the day she had to browbeat what had happened to her father from the messenger who thought her _too young_ to hear that he had been killed fighting a battle he never should have been sent into. But the day that had truly broken her had been the day she had lost her home and been taken to a new castle which she was continuously told she would grow to love.

But she didn't _want_ to grow to love Camelot; she wanted Cornwall, the only remnant of her parents and the life she had shared with them. The last thing she wanted was this city, empty of any connection to them, filled with fools simpering and consoling her as if their tiny gestures could make any difference.

"…And this, child, is my son, Prince Arthur."

The surly flaxen haired boy at Uther's side stuck his tongue out at her pettily, and within minutes she had tackled him from his spot attached to Uther's pantleg and beaten him for all she was worth. When the king's furious lecture was finished, Morgana had shot the bruised boy a smile, the first she had given since her father had departed, and thanked him for just being a prat.

And in time she had grown to appreciate both of the Pendragons, and found beautiful Guinevere who would laugh with her and go along with her pranks and hold her when she cried, but she had never stopped being grateful for the stupid boy who gave her what she had needed; something to hit.

That first assault had set the bar for their relationship, a confused spar only occasionally interspersed by genuine moments. They communicated through false venom, showed how much they had grown to love each other via dry humor and disparaging remarks, but that didn't mean that they loved each other any less than any other family. But as they grew older, there was always the shadow cast over them, a voice in their ears whispering the sad truth.

They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, and they weren't in love. And even when they started trying, forced a tempestuous flirtation in hopes of creating the feelings they were expected to have, they could not lie to themselves. They were siblings, best friends, allies in so many ways… but they were not husband and wife.

_But we were stupid._ Morgana faulted herself. _Complacent enough to think that just because Uther got that look on his face whenever the subject was brought up, that he wouldn't go through with it. That we could be _free.

So knowing her luck, she should have known that he would tighten the chain around them, just as they had both found the kind of love that they could never find in each other. And with barely a half-glance across the table full of solidarity, and the sight of poor wonderful Gwen fleeing the dining room in tears, Morgana and Arthur were comrades once more, brother and sister united against a father looking to crush them under his thumb.

They had barely made it out of the door after her (and her husband; the screaming need to _find him_ was eating her alive), ignoring the shouts of confusion and protest behind them, before Uther was upon them, dragging them as always away from their freedom_._

"Un_hand_ me this instant!"

Obligingly, Uther released his grip on her arm harshly, sending her stumbling clumsily into the empty throne room; was he determined to take her dignity as well as her self-rule? Morgana turned severely towards him, not even bothering to compose herself, noting an equally incensed Arthur tearing his bicep from his father's tight hold.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" Morgana shouted in his face, her fury only growing with proximity to the tyrant's impassive mask.

"I am king, and you are my ward." He growled. "You will show me _respect._"

"TO HELL WITH RESPECT!" The small part of her not ablaze felt a thrill of satisfaction when both men actually jumped at her roar. "You think you deserve it, after what you just did?"

Uther shifted uncomfortably, and a flash of something like regret made itself known before it was quickly buried with all the efficiency that he buried the rest of his humanity with.

"I am not one to manhandle," he began carefully, and she only barely bit down on a surge of magic struggling to lash out of him. How dare he have the _audacity_ to say that to her, after he had coldly throttled her like a common enemy and not the woman he had raised? "But I had little option when the two of you childishly stomped out of a feast in front of everyone in Camelot of importance!"

Morgana felt her mouth opening again, another shriek building in her throat- _Teach him a lesson- _when Arthur's tight voice cut her off.

"That is _not_ what she's referring to, Father." Both of them were left speechless at the look on the prince's face, a roiling wrath barely restrained behind a quiet tone. It was an anger reminiscent of his father's and yet completely distinct. Judging by the sudden devastation on Uther's face, Morgana found herself wondering if that was what Queen Ygraine looked like when she was cross with him.

"Arthur-" he tried, but surprisingly shut his mouth as his son's glare darkened.

"Why?" Arthur said hoarsely. "It's been years, father… why now?"

"I'll tell you why now." Morgana spat, crossing her arms in a vain attempt to ward off the chill in the room; she was still in the shoulder-baring gown that she had worn for- _Oh, Merlin, where are you?_ "Our _noble_ king has nearly lost me one too many times, so now he has made the decision to _chain_ me to you to keep me here… like an unruly hound to be housebroken, is that not correct?"

"…I won't lose you." He said firmly, and she'd be almost proud of him finally just speaking the truth if he wasn't hiding a bigger truth beneath it. _I won't lose anyone else._

Uther had the grace to look something approaching abashed under the weight of both of his loved one's glowers, yet another mood swing for the madman, and suddenly she couldn't take it anymore. Merlin, _her _Merlin, was out there somewhere, probably still wearing that look on his face that she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. Uther was determined to steal him from her, in whatever way he could, and here she was watching him struggling to decide whether to be human today when her husband needed her. When _she_ needed him.

Uther furiously caught her arm again as she swept past him towards the door, spinning her to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The hard gaze filling her vision left her abruptly as _Arthur_ grabbed his father's free arm in a conscious mirror of his posture. From her position, she could see the king's shocked faced reflected in her foster brother's eyes, cold like chipped ice.

"Wherever she wants." He said evenly. "Now release her."

Morgana wasn't about to wait for Uther to gather the courage to concede, tearing her bare arm from his slackened grasp. Arthur released his father as well, looking perhaps a little regretful, while Uther looked back and forth between them as if struggling to find the words he was looking for.

"It-it is not…" He stuttered for a second, before his eyes fell on her. "Don't think I don't know where you're going, child."

She stiffened, crushing the unparalleled fear brewing inside, and cocked an eyebrow in challenge.

"I don't know what you're talking about, _sire."_

"Do you think I didn't hear it in your voice?" He whispered harshly, the creeping madness rippling across his face. "When you were talking about that- that- _boy,_ did you think I couldn't _tell?"_

_Nonononono- oh please no…_

"And _you, _spending every day of your recovery with that handmaiden!" Uther snapped, making his son flinch with the speed with which he turned towards him. Only then something shifted, and suddenly the king was laughing with true mirth, almost beautiful to behold and terrifying in how out of place it was. "I was young once, Arthur, I understand the temptation of serving girls. …Of course, I can't allow you to see her again."

As Uther continued to talk as if he and his son were sharing a male bonding moment over peasant conquests, Arthur's increasingly worried stare flickered towards her, sharing in her growing fear of their king. Morgana nodded inwardly; because as hard as this was for him to see, sooner or later the prince had to come face to face with just how mad his father had become.

"My lord," she began carefully, trying not to wince as Arthur had when his head snapped towards hers. "Merlin and Gwen are our _friends,_ so of course we hold affection for them… but not in that way. We are both still looking for matches amongst the court, so… _please_… don't do this…"

Uther stared her down for a moment, before breaking away, stepping up to his throne with a strange mix of reverence and disgust that she couldn't understand.

"I-I never wanted this, you know," He said under his breath, the unusually soft words barely carrying in the echoing chamber. "…For either of you. I wanted you to find love… yes, love, so wonderful… have everything that I did, once. But sacrifices have to be made, for the greater good, yes…"

Morgana and Arthur shared another scared look, as the king ran a finger delicately over the arm of the chair.

"The greater good?" She snarled finally despite herself. "You mean for the good of the Pendragon line, don't you? Finally going to consign me to _popping out_ brave little heirs for you- all male, of course, who needs the girls-"

"NO!" Uther screamed, revolted somehow even more than she was at the idea, and shot towards them with a mad gait that was enough to send them both scurrying back. "This is not- you don't have to- _no!_ We- we'll- there will be heirs in another way, I'm sure."

And he trailed off, mumbling the beginnings of a plan involving affairs with nobles and passing children off as their own, before it was all too much and her eyes shut themselves and she was _running_ from the room as fast as she could, a disturbed Arthur hot on her heels.

_Merlin! _She repeated in her head like a mantra. _Find Merlin!_

"The-the wedding will be in a month!" Uther shouted helplessly after their retreating forms. "Are you listening to me?"

But the mad king was alone.

As always.

###

_Dearest Hunith,_

_It is with my utmost apologies that I send you this letter now after over a week of silence; I am sure you will also be receiving one from your son assuring you that he is unharmed and trying to sell you a poorly spun story explaining his absence. You know how he is about keeping people in the dark to keep them safe._

_So, as always, I will give you the truth; Merlin's life was endangered at the hands of some rather ruthless men, and I set out alone to rescue him. And before you send me yet another return post scolding me for my bravado- honestly, I see where Merlin gets it- there was literally no one else available to aid me. It was, all in all, a very difficult journey but rest assured that I have kept him safe, as I have promised._

_We have only just returned to Camelot so I'll have to keep this short, but I want you to know that you have raised the most wonderful man I have ever known, and your advice on wooing him has been invaluable. I am delighted to say that much progress has been made on that front- in ways I could only tell you in person- but know that your son is treating me well, far better than I deserve. As for myself, I am giving him everything that I have to offer, though even that falls short of all that he deserves. I know beyond a shadow of doubt now that he loves me, more than I ever could have imagined, and it seems that with each passing day my love for him only grows. I never thought I could feel such things, not for anyone, so please accept my highest gratitude and praise for the beautiful man that you have given me. _

_We are very happy together, and I look forward to one day showing you just how much in person. I only hope that I can be as fine a mother as you one day._

_With fond regards,_

_Morgana_

_PS – If Joseph continues his clumsy advances, might I suggest a demonstration of bladework in front of him? I find most men are terrified of a swordswoman. If he is not- or like your son, shows even more interest in you- than perhaps he is worth a second look. Good luck!_

"You're not supposed to read other's post… especially before they send it."

Merlin's shaking hands dropped the letter to the rug of his wife's chambers, where it narrowly missed being clipped by the wing of a passing butterfly forged from a candlestick; living reminders of the night everything had changed, an attempt at comfort fallen short. Carefully he turned to her from his place hunched over on the edge of her lush bed, the flickering firelight of the creatures flooding the room playing wispy shadows over her landscape.

Morgana stood at the entrance closing the door behind her, looking worriedly over the dark room and the flapping embers that lit it, before locking those pale green eyes (_Like limestone_) onto his. Merlin didn't need to tread into her magic to feel her despair and concern; it was written in the script of her body, in the quivering battle between holding herself firm and unmoved as normal and collapsing entirely as she allowed herself to do with him. That sinful dress, the burgundy gown that hugged all the slopes of her that he had grown to know by heart, did nothing to diffuse the pure heartbreak emanating from her.

Still, she stayed where she was, and he stayed where he was.

"…I didn't realize that the two of you had become so close." He finally said in a broken hoarse, hoping not to draw attention to the tears still pouring uncontrollably down his face; Gods, he was such a girl, Arthur was right- _No, don't think about Arthur._

"Hunith is a magnificent woman, you are very lucky to have her for a mother… " Morgana replied carefully. "She reminds me of my own, in some ways."

Merlin allowed the surprise to show, because his wife _never_ talked about her parents, not even when he reticently tried to get her to open up about them. Somehow he knew not to say anything, to let her just fill his silences as she always did.

"She and my father… theirs was an arranged marriage, too." Morgana began, eyes following a stray butterfly so that they didn't have to look at him. "But they loved each other from the moment that they met, while I am now trapped with a man who may as well be my brother…"

His lady broke off, bringing a shaking hand to her mouth, and _oh,_ he couldn't watch this; they were married now, they were _happy_ now, how could this have happened?

…_and it seems that with each passing day my love for him only grows._

It wasn't fair, damn it. She _loved_ him; every declaration of it still hit him like the first time hearing it, the lonely little boy inside sent reeling at finally having found someone. And for a week, he had honestly believed that he would never have to hear from that boy again; that she would never again have reason to weep.

…_Look at us now. May the Gods damn you even more than you already are, Uther Pendragon._

And the frost was returning, the tiny snowflake of hate in his core freezing everything around it as it had since that horrid announcement, and sent him fleeing from the dining room before he lashed out a hand and smote the source of their misery right then and there. Merlin swallowed the rage down as he best he could, and opened his mouth to comfort her.

"Morgana-"

"Where were you?" She snapped suddenly, flashing a tearful glare his way that nearly killed him. "I needed you, and you weren't there."

Merlin felt his eyes close briefly; because, damn it, he shouldn't have done that to her, left her to deal with this alone, not even for a second. He knew how scared she was about losing him, how ever since her premonition the very idea was slowly devouring her. Running had only exacerbated tonight's blow to her, left her to face this with only Arthur for support, had probably left her crying in his arms-

Cobalt eyes slammed shut at the image.

"I'm here now." He said apologetically, and was up and across the room before he even knew what his feet were doing. With a dry sob she met him halfway in a flurry of maroon silk, crushing herself into the black material of his new tunic like a lifeline. Bare arms wound around his waist and latched over his shoulders, in an almost painful hug that he returned with even more force, whispering 'I'm sorry' over and over into the shell of her ear.

"I-I have to marry him, Merlin." The terrified appeal echoed in his own. "There's no escape this time…"

"Of course there is." Merlin heard himself reply, even though rationally they both knew it was a lie, even though there was no simple way out of this. But he was long past rational, was just so damn _sick_ of the being the level headed one and bowing that hypocrite's mad whims. Because the voice his mother had taught him to live by, the cautious little boy carefully weighing cause and effect to stay alive, just wasn't _good enough_ anymore. There was a new voice ruling him now, and it wasn't his mother's or Gaius' and it for once it wasn't even Will's.

The droll lilt of his wife echoed up from somewhere deep inside, whispering;

_Sometimes you have to do what you think is right, and damn the consequences._

"Let's leave Camelot."

Morgana pulled away harshly, jaw dropped in an almost comical expression of shock, but like always she must have seen something he wasn't aware of in his eyes because her surprise was suddenly worry. The softness of her hands sliding into the roughness of his sent electricity up his spine the way it always had, that overpowering sensation that had driven him wild for all those days in the woods, tempered only by the apprehension coating her.

"Merlin… are you alright?" She whispered entreatingly, stepping closer to look up at him with wide eyes. "…_Talk to me,_ husband._"_

"D-don't call me that." He heard himself muttering despite himself, the word bringing up images of the marriage that meant everything to him, and meant nothing to the rest of the world. "It wasn't even legal…"

Morgana furrowed her brow, and he knew he was in trouble because it was her particular 'I'm going to beat some sense into you' crinkle, subtly different from her 'I'm terrified and/or briefly insane' crease or the dreaded 'I'm going to hang you by your own entrails' wrinkle.

"It was legal to _us_." She declared as if it was a royal proclamation, breaking into that shining smile that sent his heart flying. "We didn't need vows or priests or a ring; our commitment was made in magic and in love, and that's more lawful than most marriages ever get. …But I know that's not what's making you want to leave everyone we love, Merlin, so fess up."

Merlin lifted his head to shoot her a mock glare, which just made the playful twitch of her lips grow.

"Isn't it obvious?" He said, as she freed a hand to gently wipe away the drying tears on his face. "My wife is getting married to my best friend."

Morgana flinched as if struck by the reminder, her caress slowly falling away with the moment, and instantly Merlin felt his own sorrow dissipate in the face of hers. The hand not being crushed in her own returned the motion, brushing over blushed cheeks to bury itself in perfectly styled tresses. She gave him a grateful smile from under her eyelashes.

"Well, that's obviously a… _problem_, but not the one that's killing you right now." A little light returned to her face and a mock lecture slipped into her voice. "Merlin, you are talking to the crown princess of misdirection, so talk!"

Merlin laughed, freeing his other hand to join his first in her hair, bringing her close to gently sweep his lips over her forehead. And for a moment, he thought of further deflections, of using his terror and fury and the disquieting sensation of jealousy that wasn't nearly as funny when the shoe was on the other foot. Then he nipped the idea in the bud because, _Gods,_ why did he ever think he could lie to this woman?

"You… said that you hoped you could be a mother, one day." He admitted, glancing down at the letter to his mother still resting on the floor.

"…Does that bother you?" Morgana said, the sudden surge of fear in her strong enough to wash against his magic like waves crashing against the shore. Merlin bit back a groan of frustration, because as if the night wasn't bad enough now he had her thinking that he might not want children with her. _Nothing_ he said was coming out right tonight.

"There is nothing in this world that could make me happier, Morgana." He said with conviction, holding her gaze and willing her to see the future he saw for them; and a soot haired child armed with fierce green eyes and _perfectly normal_ ears. "It just… reminded me of something we've been ignoring since our marriage… something that we probably should have considered."

Morgana's confusion was brief, the spark of realization flashing through her whole body.

"…You think I might be _pregnant_?" She whispered, sounding as if she didn't know whether the prospect made her want to squeal with joy or find the nearest flask of ale. "M-Merlin…"

"It's not as if there aren't many times that it could have happened." Merlin said wryly when she let herself trail off. "We didn't exactly exercise much self-control out there, darling."

"Well, I- I mean- _Oh my God…"_

Merlin helped her sit down on the edge of the bed, carefully brushing aside a stray hair in her face as the full weight of the implication hit her the way just as hard as it had hit him. On impulse he slid an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him with a comforting kiss on her crown, and allowed silence to reign.

It wasn't like they hadn't considered this beforehand; it was only now that they had voiced it, had actually thought to deal with it. Merlin felt his heart swell at the idea of a child, a beautiful little thing with half of both of them; the perfect symbol of their union. On some level, he had known it was a possibility each time they made love, and had dismissed it as something to be dealt with later.

Well later had arrived, hadn't it? Bringing with it an arranged marriage that could see _Arthur_ raising _his_ son or daughter.

"A part of me wished for that." Morgana said finally under her breath. "The part of me not in denial, I mean. I suppose I just thought that… I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so if I am with child than that's just another way our lives would fuse. I-I didn't think…"

"…About Uther." Merlin finished for her gravely. "We didn't think about Uther, because we were finally free of him and we wanted to believe we always would be. And now he has us both in the palm of his hand. Who knows what he'll do, if you _are_ carrying my child… and he starts to suspect?"

Morgana's arms tightened into a vice grip around his ribcage, the edges of a dark resolve in her that he didn't know how to soothe, that frankly terrified him just a little.

"…Unless we go, Morgana." Gently he ran his fingers through her hair, titling her face up to his. "Leave him far behind, and build that little house by the river we talked about."

"…With the twins." She smiled luminously, and oh, she was going to make an _incredible_ mother one day. "A boy and a girl."

"And a cat, and a dog."

"Don't forget your bird."

"…What did I tell you about getting me a bird?"

Morgana laughed brightly, hands rising to cup his face and capture his lips in a bittersweet kiss. Merlin returned it eagerly, suffusing it with all the joy he felt at the future just barely in their grasp. He could see their whole life laid out before them, just them and their family and their _magic,_ with no more battles to fight. It was the most beautiful lie he had ever told, and it was as easily severed as their handfasting ribbon.

"Uther knows, Merlin." She whispered against his lips, and his eyes snapped open to meet her sad, firm stare. "Or at least suspects… and he is suspicious about Arthur and Gwen as well. If we leave now, I promise you, he will hunt us down. If he loses me, he will tear Albion apart to find me again, and to kill the man who took me away."

"...Morgana…" He said feebly, but it was no good trying to fight the inevitable. Because she was right, of course, and the lie he so desperately wanted to sustain could only last so long.

"And what of your destiny, love?" Morgana said, tangling a hand in his messy hair as she seemed unable to resist doing whenever they were close. "What of all the monsters and madmen coming to destroy Camelot's people, with only you and me to stand in their way? Abandoning them, even for our family… this isn't _you_, Merlin, and if it was I wouldn't have married you."

Merlin dropped his head in concession while she continued, each word stabbing at his heart.

"If Arthur and I marry, Uther's gaze falls off of you and Gwen. From there, it's only a matter of waiting him out." Those hands, soft and elegant, traced nonsensical patterns over his scalp as she looked at him imploringly. "_Please,_ Merlin… we can get through this. I know that I can get through anything, as long as I have you with me."

_Darn it, wife, stop making so much sense._ Merlin's annoyance must have shown on his face, because now she looked unexpectedly vulnerable, more so than he had seen her since she admitted that she had dreamed his death.

"…You _are_ with me, aren't you?"

Merlin sighed somberly, resting his forehead against hers, and offered a small smile.

"Forever, Morgana." He whispered, filing away her flinch at his words for future study before trying to lighten the mood."…When did you get so… cautious?"

"When you became so impetuous, I suppose." She said with a sudden impishness, and he just nodded against her crown with a smirk, suddenly completely exhausted.

So this was their future then; husband and wife, pretending not to be in love while in the eyes of the law she was married to his brother in all but blood. And may the Gods help them if she was with child…

A sniffle brought him back to reality.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry." Merlin said, trailing soft kisses over the tear tracks beginning to mar her make-up. "I shouldn't have… I'm sorry that I tried to pretend that we could have all of that right now. A-and I'm _so_ sorry about leaving after the announcement and about Annabelle earlier… I've never want to make you feel like you could lose me, Morgana, not ever."

Morgana smiled tearfully, tilting her head at just the right moment to intercept his lips into a longing kiss.

"One day, husband…" She said in-between kisses. "When the stars are aligned… we'll have it all."

Merlin opened his eyes as a thought occurred to him.

_But that doesn't mean we can't have some it, right now._

He stood abruptly, fighting to ignore the distressed sound at the back of his wife's throat when she lost contact with him, and straightened into a royal posture with one hand behind his back that he had seen Arthur use when the court ladies approached him. He grinned under her bemused look when he offered his hand with a distinctly noble flourish.

"May I have this dance, milady?"

And there was that smile again, brighter than all the flames in the room; their hope given life.

"…It would be my honor, milord."

###

**Bittersweet chapter is bittersweet.**

**But don't worry, gentle readers, there is a light on the other side! And... what smells like troll? O.o  
**


	20. Sweet Nothings

"Guinevere!"

Arthur Pendragon was not a patient man.

"Guinevere, open the door, _please_!"

This was why he was desperately fighting the urge to just kick the damn door down and take the woman he loved in his arms. He angrily cut that thought off when it came because he was _not_ a barbarian, not with her, _never_ with her. So instead, he was hunched in his heavy cloak outside her house in the cold dead of night, doing the one thing he'd never before wanted to do; beg.

And like the first forty-one entreaties, forty-two was met with nothing but silence punctured by a few muffled sniffles that tore his heart to shreds.

"I love you…" Arthur whispered dejectedly, resting his forehead against the surface of the door and splaying his hands against it as if he could actually feel her trembling warmth on the other side.

Over a week ago, something had happened between his best friend (he fought the Uther in him shuddering against those words) and his foster sister, leading to the most heartbroken sulking that Arthur had even seen. Grudgingly, the prince could admit that he did, in fact, enjoy being flung to wakefulness by the explosion of joy that was his infuriating manservant and his "Let's have you, lazy daisy!", but instead Merlin silently tore the curtains open, gestured to his food, and moodily went to prepare a bath. No matter how Arthur poked and prodded, Merlin seemed immune to baiting, determined to remain brokenhearted.

It might even have been funny, if it wasn't so _wrong._

And so, Arthur had concocted a rather brilliant plan to spark Merlin back to life by murdering defenseless woodland creatures in front of him. Truly, it was one of his finer strategic implements. The last thing he could have expected was the tidal wave of rogues that had seized them, the endless gauntlet from which they could barely hold up against, and just when Arthur was appreciating how odd it was that he felt more camaraderie in a fight with his manservant than with any of his knights, he had been skewered and a massive wall of a man came swinging a mace towards him.

Time seemed to slow, the way it had when he was watching Mary Collins' dagger spearing through the air towards him, and suddenly brave stupid _Mer_lin was in its path… and there was a hideous crack that rang in his ears to this day.

Blood was everywhere, as Merlin stumbled away from them, but honed instincts took over and pushed past the pain (physical and emotional) to lift his sword and cleave the brute's head clean off. Enemy safely dispatched, he turned back to his servant-_ his friend-_ just in time to see his legs give out over the edge of a nearby gorge… and just like that he dropped out of sight.

Arthur knew he would never be able to put into words the sheer terror that had gripped him then.

But there were more foes to fight- _always more_- and they were distracted watching _his friend_ fall to his certain death and he was soaking his chainmail in his blood and _Camelot needed him… _But none of those reasons were why he took the chance to run. To their attackers- to Merlin, if he could have seen him- they would have thought him running _away._

They couldn't understand that he was running_ forward_. Running towards his Guinevere.

Because all he could think of, while he was bleeding out and sprinting dazedly and hiding from his pursuers, with the death of the best man he had ever known on his conscience, was that he wanted her arms around him. That he had to stay alive, because if he was lucky, maybe she wanted to be held by him as well. Because if either of them had any chance of surviving losing Merlin, it would be because of each other.

(He decided to skip over his initial homecoming, because he still had nightmares about the sounds Morgana had made when he told them what had happened.)

Over the course of that week, they had been almost paralyzed with worry for their friends… Merlin with little to no chance of being alive, Morgana alone and determined and, apparently, not coming back unless she could bring him with her. They should have been throwing themselves into their duties the way they both did to hide from loss. Instead, they threw themselves into each other, and spent every moment together.

The only good part of his terrible injury- which oddly was feeling much better since Morgana had poked at it playfully- was that Guinevere had taken it upon herself to be his nurse. While he was left trapped in Gaius' chambers, desperately avoiding the rickety door to Merlin's room that stared accusingly at him, she was there by his side whenever she could find the time. When he reopened his wound trying to go for a walk, she had scolded and chastised him hard enough to impress even Gaius, but then ran careful mocha hands were over his skin, assessing the damage and soothing his pain with just a touch before she began sewing him up like a torn bedspread.

Being waylaid had never been so rewarding.

And late one night, when he could barely lift his head through the agony and the guilt, Gwen had suddenly appeared from the ether, gingerly sliding into his cot with him and holding him while he cried like a small child. Some tiny part of him, the love-starved toddler gesturing to be picked up by a father who wouldn't, roared to completion within her gentle grasp. Some giant part of him, the warrior still frozen solid as he watched himself fail his best friend in the worst way, began to melt under her lips.

"It's not your fault, Arthur Pendragon." She whispered between kisses, a quiet begging in her words for him to come back to her. "It's _not."_

It shouldn't be okay, that he had gotten his friend killed and led his sister to charge alone into the wilderness, probably never to be seen again. _It shouldn't be okay, _that in a matter of days something as simple as his fingers bound in her ringlets, or her tinkling laugh in his ear, or the fire in those dark eyes when he pushed himself just to see that side of her rise up, could piece him back together so easily. And it shouldn't be okay that just a few days after losing two of the most important people in the world to him, he found he could live with the open wounds they left just as long as she was there to stitch him back up.

But it _was_ okay, in the end, _all of it_… because he loved her. More than anything.

"I _love_ you, Guinevere." He whispered again finally.

_But we can't make it okay, this time, can we?_

Arthur straightened and moved to return to the castle, just as a click echoed through the mist, and suddenly the door was unlocking and she was crashing into him in the middle of the empty street, her grip tighter than any he had ever felt. He couldn't even feel the protest from his injury in the elation that she had finally given in, crushing her in an even tighter hold because _he was never letting her go again._

Hours may have passed for all he knew, the folds of his cloak shielding the both of them from the cold air, relishing the warmth of each other that was theirs at last, before she finally spoke in a quivering tone he hadn't heard from her since they had last spoken of her poor father's murder.

"I-I don't want you to marry her." She whispered against his collar bone.

"I don't want to marry her either." Arthur said finally, lips tingling as they moved against her curls. "But I don't see a way around it."

Arthur had to bite down hard on his lip to prevent the violent escape of everything his sudden engagement forged in him. The fury, the revulsion, the utter _betrayal_ of it all, the guilt and empathy for the two who might as well be his siblings and what they were going through because of him. But worse than anything was the uncomfortable realization that, though his father may genuinely love both him and Morgana , it was with the sick kind of love one holds towards a precious jewel, to be jealously shielded from the world. Arthur couldn't help the sudden surge of conviction inside of him, promising never to love so wrongly.

"Guinevere…" He prompted, reluctantly pulling away just enough to draw her beautiful gaze up to him. "I promise you, no matter what happens, that I will _always_ love you too much to try to put you in a cage. Do you understand? Even if you wish to leave me, if you fall in love with another… then I will do nothing but be happy for you, my Guinevere."

Reminders of the clear flirtation between her and Lancelot, or even her and _Mer_lin, sent a shudder through him even as he realized that he would be able to survive seeing her with either of them, as long as they were as good to her as they were to everyone else. Because he wasn't his father, couldn't trick himself into thinking love meant chaining a person to you like a dog… because all he could ever want in this world was for the woman he loved to be happy.

SLAP!

Arthur reeled back as the hot sting of that beloved hand on his face tingled with contact with the cold air. Guinevere was looking incensed and gorgeous, wild hair bristling like an angry cat's, and he almost flinched as she stomped towards him, awaiting her next strike. Instead, she simply crushed herself against him again and led him into a demanding kiss.

"_Never,_ Arthur Pendragon." She said firmly, inches from his wide eyes, when she finally pulled away. "There could never be another, do you understand? I don't care if you're married to Morgana or that Sophia woman or even Annabelle the laundry maid; _I love you,_ and _nothing_ can break that."

"Guinevere…" Arthur heard himself mouth stupidly, blindsided by her declaration, unable to process what to do with a vow as strong as his own being handed back to him. In all his wildest dreams, he could have never imagined having anything more than a forced love with his foster sister… how could he have been so lucky, to be handed such love when he had done so little to deserve it?

"Hush…" She said with a smile, that shining smile, brighter than all the sunrises he had ever seen. She titled her head coyly, a small gesture that set his blood racing, and pulled away only to offer her hand palm-down, like a queen asking to have her ring kissed. "Come inside, Arthur."

There were so many reasons to say 'no.' So many things that could go wrong, or be made worse, or simply blow everything he had to hell. So many reasons to walk away from her for good.

_But I love you, and I want you to make this okay for us._

Like a peasant bowing before her majesty, Arthur reverently took her hand and let her lead him inside.

###

Morgana hated dancing.

It was one of her baser instincts, but the idea of pretend intimacy with someone she usually didn't even know, coupled with the perfectly choreographed movements, left her cold inside. At feasts, dances involved wearing shoulder-bearing dresses, holding the hands of a stranger and standing far too close until she could taste their heavy breath, could see the maw of hunger for her in their greedy eyes. But she couldn't say anything, had to stay close and keep the next step fresh in her mind as she moved across the dance floor with him… because she is a noble and she is to dance with other nobles.

This is what was _expected_ of her.

(Even worse, none of them ever let her take the lead.)

To her, dancing had become synonymous with something invasive, something oppressive, something she thought both Uther and Hengist might enjoy inflicting on her. As soon as the odd thought occurred to her she tried to kill it with extreme prejudice, because for whatever he was, Uther wasn't at all like _that man…_

_Was he?_

She shook the thoughts out of her head and reminded herself what tonight was about.

Because peasants didn't dance like nobles, she knew, had loud and clumsy and _fun_ dances that she would never be able to participate in, would scarcely even witness. She was cursed to sit reading alone in a room filled with pretty things, wishing Gwen a happy evening when she left with her father to attend an informal get-together, the kind she could only presume would feature the evasive _fun_ kind of dancing that so eluded her. And she was left with her money and her status and her loneliness, nothing but the aristocratic composure she so resented keeping her from breaking down.

"Ouch, Morgana!"

"Oops, sorry!"

_Not anymore._

Morgana smiled sheepishly up at her husband, removing her heel from his foot. Merlin shot her an amused look as he righted himself, sliding his arm back into its rightful place around her back and linking fingers with her. She blew the hair that had fallen from their pins out of her face, skimming her own hand up his chest to grasp his shoulder gently.

"I thought you were good at this?" Merlin said cheekily as they renewed their slow waltz. She gave a gasp of mock outrage.

"I am _spectacular_ at this, Merlin!" She shot back as they swirled gradually around her chambers, Lorensian butterflies playfully dodging in and out of their way. "It's your fault for moving too close, you know. My usual dancing partners at least have _some_ sense of propriety."

(That was a lie, of course.)

"I don't think propriety is what you want." He said genuinely, and on any other night it would have been one of his awkward flirts that never the less set her alight. But tonight, it was just a calm acknowledgement of what she was feeling and what he wanted to give her, and it made her duck her head and blush like a flustered little girl.

"No, it isn't." She whispered smilingly against his chest, the crest of her head resting ever so lightly on his collar bone.

They moved in silence for a few more moments, gracelessly moving around the impromptu dance floor like they were only just learning how to. Dancing with Merlin was as unique to them as everything else they shared together… and every bit as free. There was no choreography to follow here, or at least not any to adhere to too firmly. Merlin was as gawkily elegant as ever, somehow managing to turn every wrong move and clumsy unbalancing into a part of the dance, and she envied his ability to not have to manufacture his body language the way she did.

Morgana tightened her fingers around his reflexively, still not looking up at him.

She didn't remember what she used to move like, before Uther drilled the court into her. Was she still graceful, perfectly poised; taking after her mother? Did she hold herself like a knight, just another way to imitate her father, her hero? Perhaps she was as gangly in her youth as the man she loved? Morgana saw an odd flash of another world, where her parents hadn't perished and she had grown up allowed to move however she wished. Imagined stumbling awkwardly into Merlin in the marketplace one day, and the shared laugh they would get from mutually uncooperative limbs.

"Of all the things that you could be thinking about," Came Merlin's gentle breath against her ear, his head lowered alongside hers. "…why would you be worrying about something as silly as that?"

Morgana raised her eyes to meet his in surprise, before laughing ruefully to herself.

"Oh, I'm so upset that my thoughts are just pouring off me, aren't they?" She said, trying without success to gather her spilled droplets of magic back into herself before any more trite worries reached him. Tendrils of Merlin gently caught them in a soothing caress, and full lips brushed against hers with a small smile, relishing the way she shuddered against him.

"Please don't hide from me, Morgana." He whispered, the slightest quiver in his voice the only thing betraying his underlying fear for their future. "And… for your information, there's nothing wrong with being able to walk straight."

She laughed as he separated enough to raise their linked hands and twirl her precariously, her red gown flaring around her as she spun back into his chest harder than necessary but just the way she liked it. He returned her teasing smile once he had caught his breath again.

"I know it's stupid." She said childishly as she impatiently forced his arm back around her, eliciting an amused grunt from him. "But bumping into the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with like a drunken horse is a far better introduction then the one we got."

Merlin frowned in confusion, briefly breaking away from their rapport to negotiate them away from the vanity they were about to crash into and dodge a particularly spiteful butterfly trying to divebomb him.

"What, you mean you teasing me about my undying love for Gwen?"

Morgana flinched despite herself, because she knew needed to work on this whole jealousy thing but it was _just_ _so hard_ when thoughts of other women going after her husband approached her. Idly, she wondered if he felt the same about Arthur, if Gwen felt the same of her, and briefly panicked at the realization that the two best friends now had even more in common.

"Morgana?" Merlin's voice brought her back down to Earth, as always, and she chided herself for acting like a lovelorn teenager when right now, all they needed was each other.

"No, Merlin, I'm talking about the first time you saw me." Morgana felt herself frown. "It was at that ball, wasn't it? Where you first saved Arthur's ungrateful life? I was wearing this dress, and the whole crowd parted for me, and I recognized you next to Gaius as the only other person in the crowd who looked as disgusted as I was by Thomas Collin's execution."

Merlin just cocked an eyebrow- it was one of her gestures that he had picked up, and it looked _far_ too good on him- in wordless gesture for her to elaborate.

"I just…" Morgana stopped before she began, feeling herself coming apart again. "I just wish your first impression of me hadn't been of my being… _presented_ like that. I wish you could have seen me as a real woman first, and not Uther's crown jewel."

Merlin laughed against her hair, and suddenly he was dipping her abruptly over his arm, nearly banging her head against the table. Morgana found herself sputtering indignantly as he pulled her back up again, his cheerful grin filling her vision.

"Morgana, that was the _third_ time I saw you." He chuckled, allowing them to stop moving for a moment to catch their breaths. "Didn't I ever tell you how I first knew I was in love with you?"

He probably had, but Morgana found herself barely able to think at the moment and this may just be exactly what she needed.

"Tell me again."

Merlin let out a breath and moved in to press his warm mouth against hers.

"It was at the execution, as well. You were staring at it from out your window, all flowing blue and black, and I thought you were the saddest woman I had ever seen." His smile touched her lips, just a little bittersweet. "I had just arrived at Camelot, thinking it'd be this great adventure. But there was so much jeering, and _hate_, and someone like me was _dying_… Suddenly I was so scared, Morgana. So _alone."_

Morgana' eyes fluttered opened to meet his, knowing how strange they must look frozen mid-dance and mid-kiss, but she had the strangest instinct that if she moved, this fragile moment would be shattered forever.

"And then I saw you." His eyes nearly glowed, not with magic, but with such pure obvious love that he held for her, the kind she would never deserve. "And I knew in an instant I wasn't alone, that there was someone just like me thinking the same things I was. Just seeing you for a second… made everything better, Morgana."

She closed her eyes against the tears, against the _love_, and threw herself into another kiss, leading him again into another waltz, faster this time. If only they both hadn't been so _blind_ to each other, all this time, they could have had so much longer together before Uther swooped down to lock her up the way he always did. Before the shadow of his sword cutting into the neck she was now burying her nose into cast over them and every moment they shared.

"Morgana?"

"Hmm?" She mumbled noncommittally against his pulse.

"Is that what you were doing with me, tonight?" He said anxiously, the quaver in his voice causing her to pull back to look up at him. "With the new clothes, I mean. Were you …presenting me?"

"Not… not in the way you're thinking_."_ She replied cautiously. "Not like Uther presents me."

Her husband frowned at her, unconvinced, and she had to search her scattered brain for the words she was looking for.

"I just… I wanted them all to _see_ you, Merlin, the way that I do. To look at you like they look at me." She fingered his lapel lazily, shooting him a grin. "Besides, I really like buying you things."

The silk on their wrists brushed against each other mindfully, as his smile timidly came back from wherever it had fled.

On impulse, she flung him out hard- twirling him along the length of her limb- before pulling him back harshly in the same manner and using the momentum to boldly dip _him_ over _her_ arm. Merlin blinked up at her dully, as if just noticing the fact that he was suddenly locked in a submissive position with both of her arms wrapped tightly around him.

"Ah… I don't think this is how it's supposed to go, darling." He grinned up at her to show he was okay with it, and she couldn't help returning it the way she always did. Oh how lucky she was, to have finally found a partner to dance with who would allow her to take the lead.

"I love you Merlin, very much." She murmured down at him, trying to convey with her tone and magic and eyes just how little that sentence conveyed how grateful she was for him, how much she cherished what she would _never_ allow to be taken from her.

"We've established that." He replied playfully, his free hand curling around her chin before his stare finally broke from her lips back to her gaze. "Oh, I love you too, by the way."

When he pulled her down for another kiss, every fire in the room flared and died as if overcome.

###

_Merlin met the witch's eyes across the room, and smiled as if the mad king wasn't even there._

"_Forever, Morgana."_

_Like his own claws, Uther's sword flashed out. Just like that, Albion's salvation was gone._

Kilgarrah the Great Dragon started from his slumber, roaring and blazing in protest, seeking to avenge his unhatched Dragonlord and destroy the traitorous king who had taken the last shred of anything he had in this world. As always, it took him a moment to pull himself back to reality, to acclimate to the dank black depths that he sadly called home, and to remember that poor naïve Merlin was alive and well and the monster he had once called friend was resting undeservedly in his luxurious human bed.

Over twenty years of work and he was no nearer to thwarting that damnable dream than he had been the night he had first had it.

A wizened, broken old mind cast itself back, rode the waves of Seer magic and followed the various courses of destiny. All of them ended the same. The witch would break him, in some way or form, whether it be his heart, spirit, or even his life that she took. And somehow, she had fallen in love with this man whom she was destined to annihilate.

And that was a problem, because the course they were following was going to lead to Merlin's demise.

Kilgarrah smiled darkly as he settled back down for the night, as he remembered the only piece of good news he had left.

There was one last card up his sleeve to cheat this game and save Merlin… and it had already been snuck into play.

###

**...And fluffy chapter is fluffy!**

**Yeah, so, I was gonna just skip ahead to 2x05/2x06, but honestly there was a lot left to do with the fallout of the announcement and with this night in particular. It seems trollgate will have to a wait a while. (Sorry, Hayley~!) Also, bonus ominous Kilgarrah, because in case you haven't noticed I totally heart cliffhangers. ^_^**


	21. Take What We Can Get

Waking up to Merlin should not be this nostalgic already.

And yet, as the sun's rays crept almost timidly over the expensive clothes scattered carelessly across the floor, to meet the chaotically situated covers and their entwined bodies under it, Morgana couldn't help feeling like she had awoken to the sight of her husband's messy bedhead for years now. A silly thought to be sure, since it had been barely two months since they had begun sharing a bed, a room, a _life_. So how had it become this familiar, then, falling asleep to the sound of his heart beating against her ear, waking up to the way his magic seemed to stretch and _chime_ against the sunlight as if possessing its own will?

_My bed, my chambers, used to be so empty._ She thought to herself sleepily, nuzzling distractedly against his collar bone until she again found that certain crook in his neck that fit her like a glove. _And _I_ used to be so empty._

Lithe arms tightened around her reflexively, his body itself seeming programmed to sense her distress and move to comfort her without a single thought from her snoozing husband. The days of this place feeling like a gilded cage, like a cold room where no one was waiting for her to come home and no one ever would be… it all now seemed now as if in another life. These were _their_ chambers now, and everywhere her eyes fell were memories of him and of them. The table where they had first read together and she had nearly tasted him at long last, the rug they had clumsily danced across to the music of each others voices, the mirror he had spent ages in front of blushingly refuting her gentle insistence that he looked _beautiful _in his new clothes.

And the bed were they lay together; where he first shielded her from her guilt and her loss and her dreams, where she first realized they had been in love for a long time now, where they lost control and nearly destroyed the entire room, and where she had seen the end of his life for the first but certainly not the last time. And this was where, last night, they had clung to each other naked and sated, unable to make love for fear of lighting the castle on fire or something equally hilarious, but somehow fully satisfied just with dancing and talking and holding each other.

Reverently, Morgana found herself tracing the contours of his face with a shaking fingertip, down the sloping rise and fall of his temple and his cheekbones, across his stubbly jaw and probing the lush depths of his lips with a light touch. He was _so_ beautiful, her husband, inside and out… and he was all hers.

But she was not allowed to be all his, was she?

They say that when one's life is taken their entire life flashes before their eyes, but Morgana was starting to wonder if the same applied to the one who _takes _that life. Because every time she allowed thoughts of her erstwhile guardian to break out of the vault where she put the things that frightened her, she saw not Uther's death but his _life,_ his life with _her,_ flashing on and off like a flickering candle. All his love for her, his care, his anger, his _strangulation;_ all the little moments they had shared when she was growing up that just didn't seem to matter in the face of what he had done last night. And she wondered…

Did the life of someone you're about to kill flash before _your_ eyes, too?

Morgana screwed her eyes shut and pulled herself even flusher against Merlin's warmth, trailing her hand up along his face to bury it in his shaggy hair. Willing dark thoughts away, forcing into her mind's eye that look on her beloved's face when it was upturned towards her, on that night so long ago, when she had wished Uther dead and he had told her that that wasn't who she was. It was the night she had first realized, in his face and his tone and on the air, that if she was lucky she could have someone who she could finally show her darkest parts too and not see them be repulsed. She could have someone who would _understand,_ who wouldn't think her a killer no matter how murderous she got.

_I am not a killer._

_I am not a killer._

_I am not a killer._

The mantra wasn't helping this time, not now that Uther had done _this_ to them. The only thing that could ever be worse than killing Merlin, than beheading him like a lame horse, was forcing him to watch while she married another man. And she wanted the king dead so badly it _burned,_ like an iron in her heart.

Lips abruptly seized her own in a vice grip, less a kiss and more of a steadying hold, and all of a sudden her center had returned.

"_I told you that I was with you in this."_ Dulcet tones purred into her core. _"And I am, as I am in all things."_

"_I-I know you are."_ She sent back absentmindedly, distracted as his hands moved down to her hips to gently shift her atop him. _"But we're living on borrowed time, my love."_

Merlin broke the kiss and his stare forced her eyes open to meet it, hard and sapphire like the gems adorning the vanity across the room. He slowly sat up, taking her with him until her legs locked automatically at the base of his spine and the blanket cocooned them in warmth.

"I _won't_ die, Morgana… I swear it."

He was such a good liar.

The covers were sliding down her back enticingly- his touch without his hands- and the sun was heating her skin inch by inch, until the duvet pooled at their waist and they were openly entangled and naked with each other. She smiled down at him, brushing a lock of her hair off his mouth before angling him up to meet her in a fierce kiss. For brief moments they again lost themselves in each other, hands and lips wandering with sinful purpose, until their bed trembled and most of the glassware in the room began shaking and ringing.

"S-stop, stop, stop…" Morgana broke away reluctantly, pulling herself as far as his surprisingly firm arms around her would allow. "Merlin, we _can't_…"

"Hey, that's my line." He smirked cheekily; it was a very frustrating look for him, since it made her want to kiss it off his face and that was the _last_ thing they needed. "And as the reserved one in this relationship, I think we'll be fine."

And he was back to nuzzling her neck almost cheerfully, like a child in a confectionery stall, laughing greedily as her head fell back against her will.

"Pre-_pregnant_, Merlin…" She finally managed to get out, causing him to reel back and shoot a panicked look her way. "No, I'm not… at least I don't _think_… look, we have to be careful now, alright? Judging by his reaction to the subject of heirs last night, I don't think he'd take well to my carrying a child; no matter who fathered it."

Morgana could feel the anxiety, relief, and utter terror bleeding off of him the moment she said 'heirs'. She fingered his shoulder blade idly, looking reticently down at him, steeling herself to say the last thing in the world she wanted to.

"If it'll create a child… we _can't_, Merlin, not anymore."

Merlin released a heavy sigh, resting his crown against her breasts dejectedly. It hurt, to see him defeated, too see yet another piece of their freedom stolen from them. And suddenly she couldn't take it, couldn't bow so easily to Uther's mad whims, and most importantly, she couldn't steal this away from him. Uncontrollable magic be damned.

"But…" She murmured in her best seductive drawl, the one that seemed to affect him like no other. Her hands crackled with the sparks falling off his skin as she drew him even closer, as her fingers walked up the knobs of his spine and he made an appreciative noise against her chest. He was putty in her hands, and the power she held over him made her grin a touch too feral. "That still leaves a lot of _other_ things we can do together…"

Merlin crashed his mouth down onto hers, their joint laughter echoing down each others throats.

As Camelot was suddenly struck by a rather impressive thunderstorm, she hoped nobody had any plans today.

###

Arthur Pendragon was beginning to wonder if he wanted to commit patricide. Or regicide, he supposed; there was little difference.

It's not like he was chomping at the bit to kill his father, or anything. But as he finally managed to overpower the urge to just stay with his Guinevere in her bed and the pounding rain on her roof, reluctantly offering a parting kiss on a smile far too wan for her bright face, the prince couldn't stop the irrational surge of… _something_, undulating in his gut towards the king.

"You're worried." Merlin said knowingly next to him, finally breaking the awkward silence that had prevailed since they had met up again in the corridors.

It had seemed like ages since his manservant had last woken him in the most annoying way possible, and Arthur found he nearly missed it. Almost as much as he missed the easy rapport they inexplicably shared, which seemed to have dried up since Father's announcement. Merlin was always the one trying to move their (ugh)_ friendship_ forward, but now he didn't seem to know what to say, and Arthur resented having to be the "come on, talk about your feelings!" one in their byplay; mostly because he had _no_ idea how to manage it, or even where to start. He wondered enviously what Guinevere said to get people to open up when they were clamping down.

It was as if Merlin had suddenly become him and he was stuck scrambling to become the _Mer_lin in their relationship, and it _stank._

Still, it was an olive branch, as awkward as anything Merlin said, so he took it.

"I'm not sure how my father's going to be today." He muttered as they paused in front of a group of knights running like distraught women out of the downpour. Arthur darted a searching glance towards his friend (if he kept saying it, it would get easier) only to find him staring resolutely away from him, but could detect no anger in him, only overwhelming discomfort.

_He's handling this remarkably well, since I'll be marrying his wife in a month._ Arthur thought with something disturbingly close to admiration. _I'm not sure I could be so strong if he were suddenly betrothed to Guinevere._

The thought nearly sent him to his knees, and if just the _idea_ could hurt so badly, how strong must the pain that he and his father have put Merlin and Morgana though be in comparison?

"Mm, Uther's certainly been off recently; Morgana's gone ahead of us to try to head off whatever mood he's in." Merlin replied cordially, still looking ahead determinedly, but Arthur could detect the obvious affection and latent worry in his voice when he said his foster sister's name. They were only overshadowed by the cold tinge of anger rippling from his tone at his father's. It was a strange inflection, something Arthur had never before heard from his, frankly, _huggable_ manservant. There was something oddly scary about it.

"L-listen, Merlin…"

Merlin finally looked at him, and the weight of all the mixed emotions in his eyes was crippling.

"Yeah?"

_I'm _so _sorry, Merlin. Father is monstrous to do this and neither of you deserve this and I don't want her but I still love him and I don't know what to _do-

"…I-I reckon it's because of all the weather." Arthur finished lamely, grappling in a panic for the new, hard-won openness in their friendship and coming up short. Father had damaged something in them both, and he wasn't sure how to fix it. "The odd events in the skies- they disturb him. He thinks it's more magic, coming to destroy us."

A heavy sigh was released from off to his side, the despair in it resounding even over the pitter-patter of rainfall. (_Wait,_ pitter-patter? _Oh God, I am getting _way_ too good at becoming Merlin!)_

"He sees it everywhere, doesn't he?" Merlin's stare was odd, something akin to guilty, before he broke his gaze again.

"Yes, he does." Arthur replied, annoyed with how formal they were being. "He used to be so reluctant to accept that a threat to Camelot could be magical, now he labels it onto things that aren't even dangers."

"…I hope that never happens to you, Arthur."

The prince blinked in surprise at Merlin's quiet plea… there was a message there, a hidden meaning just on the edge of his conscience…

"Come on, I'm worried about Morgana."

And with that, Merlin rushed off into the rain, leaving Arthur to follow him in confusion. He'd be furious with him if all his rage wasn't reserved for his father. It certainly didn't help his anger that despite the sudden engagement, last night had been the most wonderful night of his life.

Trying to power through the rainstorm with his errant manservant beside him, (Merlin didn't seem to have anything else to say, annoyingly enough) Arthur could still vividly remember hands on his skin, lips tasting his with surprising confidence, the worn bed that smelled just like her.

"_G-Guinevere, please…" He heard himself say in a small voice that he would normally be embarrassed about, but graceful fingers were unlacing his top even as the lips he craved brushed against his and he didn't think he could feel anything at all right now except for the sheer _want_ pounding in his ears._

"_Yes, Arthur?" She replied, the fake calm doing little to hide the lust in her voice as he was suddenly bare chested, her mouth lowering to nuzzle against his neck and _oh God,_ that felt so..._

_Guinevere gave a startled yelp as his hands gripped her shoulders and thrust her way from him, giving Arthur the distance he _desperately_ needed to catch his rapid breath, eyes lowered almost bashfully to try to avoid both her rising and falling chest and the naked hurt in her eyes._

"_I- you don't…?" She whispered, and he could _feel_ her entire body trembling through his fingers._

"No,_ Guinevere, I-" Arthur nearly kicked himself as her wounded expression deepened even further, realizing what she thought he meant. "No, I mean…! Yes, I do, _of course I do,_ but…"_

_He felt his head drop again, the cobblestone floor of his beloved's home suddenly becoming fascinating to him. This was the last thing he wanted to tell her, the very last thing in the world, but he was prince and responsibility had always come before pleasure. Appallingly, he felt tears begin to gather at edges of his eyes; _disgusting,_ so girlish, what would Father think-?_

"_Hey," Gunievere whispered, ghosting closer and taking his head in her hands to brush his shame away with gentle thumbs, giving him that certain smile that made him think he couldn't feel like less of a man in front of her if her were wearing a tutu. She sobered again, and watching the light melt off of her face brought him back down with her. "You think it's too risky… with your father watching, I mean…"_

_Hastily, almost clumsily, he took his hands from his face and pressed him lips to them._

"_I love you, my queen."_

_Her jaw dropped almost comically, the beautiful awe on her face making him break into the widest grin he had ever grinned._

"_Don't look so shocked… that's what you are to me, Guinevere." He declared, holding her tearful gaze with one to match it and no longer ashamed to cry for her, no longer ashamed of anything she inspired in him. "And one day, I will give you the biggest, most nauseatingly extravagant wedding you can possibly imagine!"_

_Arthur's heart soared with her gentle giggle, that tinkling laugh that could affect him so strongly._

"_On that night… our wedding night- it will be everything you and I have always dreamed, Guinevere. It will be about _us_. Not… born out of some absurd scheme of my father's, or the grief it causes us. Okay?"_

_Gwen nodded tearfully, resigned yet hopeful, and he pulled her into a firm hold, her head fitting just right under his chin._

"_I-I still want you to stay with me… here, I mean…" Came the nervous whisper against his Adam's apple._

_Arthur gave her a roguish grin, abruptly sweeping her off her feet with a surprised laugh, and carried her over towards the bed bridal style._

And they had simply talked, about anything and everything, simply held each other through the night and it had all been _ecstasy._ This was love, he knew, true and unbroken love, and Father wanted to _steal _it from him. Steal it from him and Guinevere and from Merlin and Morgana as well, condemn them all to the misery that ruled his life. And he could not condone it, not _ever._

He would put a stop to it.

Arthur's resolve, and all the breath in Merlin's lungs, fled as the doors to the throne room parted to let them see Gaius, crumpled at the feet of the throne with Guinevere crouched at his side, and his father's mad eyes as he rose a fist to strike Morgana.

Before he could cross the room, draw his sword, or even react to the nightmare playing out before him, _Mer_lin was _screaming_ at the _king of Camelot._

"LEAVE. HER. _**ALONE**__."_

###

**Eidolon: Whew, long day! Time to surf some interwebz, for realz0rz!**

**Computer: User, I feel it prudent to let you know that, well, that slang hasn't been up to date in several years. Please stop this instant, before you become the new mascot of the "used to have dignity" club.  
**

**Eidolon: Give me a break, Computer, I'm exhausted as hell. Just go to Youtube, alright, there's bound to be something entertaining there...**

**Computer: Debatable, User. Surely you have less agonizing uses for my processors?**

**Eidolon: Like what, perchance?**

**Computer: 'Perchance' is even more outdated. And what about that twenty-chapter epic romance that you were absurdly dedicated too, until you were dragged back into the real world two weeks ago?**

**Eidolon: Wha?**

**Computer: Throw Out the Script? The one you updated one to two times a week?  
**

**Eidolon: ...O_O**

**Computer: ...User? o_o  
**

**Eidolon: ..._Oh shit_... :o :o :o :o :o**

**...Aaaand that's the gist of it. Hey, guys, sorry about the delay. RL has been _insane,_ I'm not even kidding. Like suddenly I woke up one day and the cosmos decided to kill _all my free time ever._ Anytime I did have to write was spent wrestling with writer's block. Ugh, I'm really sorry everybody, because I know I've been really good about updating so far and leaving ya'll dangling in the middle of such a big twist was totally not cool of me. Um, I hope the chapter's satisfactory enough to make up for the wait and _hopefully_ nothing like this happens again.**

**...Forgive me? ;_;  
**


	22. The Caretaker

Gaius had one single responsibility in his life.

Of course, that is not to say that he did not have many duties to see to; there was always someone coming down with something, someone with the sniffles convinced they were deathly ill and in desperate need of his consolation, new diseases and their treatments to think up. The life of the court physician, and royal advisor, was endlessly hectic.

But these were the obligations of a career choice, not his chosen calling. To Gaius, he was a physician and advisor mostly to facilitate his true mission; taking care of the people he loved.

Gaius furrowed his wrinkled brow as he ambled through the corridors, ignoring the pounding of the rain trying to interrupt his thoughts.

_I have not done a very good job of that._ He thought tiredly.

Images of Morgana on the night Merlin had revealed what he had kept from her all these years, the fury and hurt lining her face making her look as if she was again the spunky, grieving little girl chewing him out for the terrible tastes of his sleeping draughts. He had been able to calm her then, perhaps one of the few who could, and it had been the beginning of a friendship that he cherished. A friendship he had almost ruined, the way he had ruined the one he had with Nimueh.

The old man stopped dead in front of the throne room doors, bowing his head against the memories.

"_That's _boring._" The teenage girl spat, turning away from the bubbling potion to continue tying feathers into her dark locks imperiously. "Why would I care about healing spells, Alice?"_

_Even from where he was standing in the doorway to their chambers, and with her back turned to him, Gaius could hear the telltale snort of his Alice, shaking her honey tresses resignedly as she gave up trying to interest their ward and returned to her work, busy covering her cauldron to let it simmer. He ran a hand through his brown hair, feeling the annoying first beginnings of it receding, and contemplated the woman he loved. Alice had always hoped for a daughter, and perhaps came on a bit too strong with the troubled youth suddenly catapulted into their life. That, and some obvious envy of the older woman's considerable skill, had created a tempestuous relationship between them._

"_What's all this then?" Gaius announced his arrival, stepping fully into the foyer. The two women in his life both spun their heads toward him, Alice shooting him a relieved look while Nimueh tried and failed to hide her joy at his entrance. He seemed to be the only authority figure that she heeded; perhaps she felt she could trust him because he didn't have the same connection to the Old Religion that either she or Alice did, marking him as someone she could share the arts with but not feel threatened by. Or maybe the troubled young woman had chosen him to fill the ragged whole that her absentee father had left in her… from what she had let slip, the man had not been very kind to her._

"_Oh, thank the Gods you're here." Alice laughed with a smile, as she abruptly moved across the room and pecked him lovingly on the cheek. "She's all yours, darling."_

"_Oh, love you too, Alice!" Nimueh shouted sarcastically as his colleague and love exited with a mock glare. Gaius rolled his eyes at their byplay, sad to see the woman he hoped to one day marry leave so soon, and then turned a disapproving stare on his ward when she openly levitated a flask of wine into her hand. She gave him a defiant look before knocking it back in a most unladylike manner; judging by the decorative designs it looked to be from the royal vineyard, presumably either given to her by Ygraine or pilfered from Uther._

"_I'm too tired to stand up and get it myself, alright?" She said sullenly, dabbing at her lips with a cloth in an uncharacteristic display of decorum. "Ygraine had me out riding last night with her and that wilting flower of a prince. Honestly, I don't know what she sees in a man as meek as Uther Pendragon."_

_She gave him a hopeful look from the corner of his eyes, clearly seeming to think she had goaded him into another impassioned defense of the crown prince. The curve of his eyebrow was all it took to tell her that she had not succeeded in changing the subject._

"_Look, I just don't see what's so wrong with using magic to make things easier." Nimueh said defensively._

"_Clearly there has to be something wrong with it," Gaius began kindly. "…otherwise the Sisterhood wouldn't by denying you entrance for that very reason."_

_Nimueh looked at the floorboards and muttered something, her angry tone failing to hide her hurt at being rejected by the Priestesses she so looked up to. He knew it must be hard for her, a born Seer denied the guidance and inclusion of her fellows, especially now, when her nightmares seemed to be worsening. Come to think of it, she looked unusually pale…_

"…_What did you dream, Nimueh?" He said cautiously, lowering to sit next to her on the bench._

_She gave him a strange look, as if trying to decipher his intentions, before relenting._

"…_Do you think Uther will be a good king?"_

_Gaius blinked dully at the sudden shift in topic, before giving her a fatherly smile._

"_Despite your constant diatribes, yes, I believe Uther has everything it takes to be a great king one day."_

"…_He's not comfortable around magic." Nimueh continued, the faraway look in her eyes reminding him of all the nights she would awake screaming, not realizing she had awoken until he or Alice managed to bring her back to reality. "Whenever Ygraine asks me about it, he… stiffens."_

"_Magic can be quite frightening," Gaius said contemplatively. "…as you well know. But I've watched that boy grow out of a lot of things, Nimueh, and I'm sure he will leave this behind him as well."_

_His ward shook her head, as if trying to clear her mind of the thought._

"_Yes, of course you're right." Her breezy laugh did nothing to hide the gratitude etched into every line of her body. "I… thank you, Gaius. I know I can always count on you."_

_Stiffly, as if fighting it, she threw her arms around his middle like she was again the little girl hugging the father who had long since run out on her, before sweeping out of the room at top speed to go bother her two friends again. Gaius smiled at her retreating back; slowly but surely, the prickly girl was lowering her defenses, was beginning to grow up. A warm plume of pride swelled to life in his chest. _

_He couldn't wait to see who she would grow up to be._

No, he had not done a very good job at all.

Images of the last time he had seen her flashed before his eyes, eyes that once sparkled with compassion and mischief deadened with frost, that prodigious talent keeping her young and unlined as if time itself bowed before her. The rage and betrayal in her voice as she called him a coward, another father to abandon her. The cold glee as she drained the life from him, the last sight he had beheld before death finally came to claim his too-old soul.

But the maw of guilt he felt began to close when he thought of the next thing he had seen; Merlin, young and bright and grinning that foolish grin through the rain. Gentle and righteous, the way Uther had been before he had given Ygraine his heart and soul and had both crushed, but with none of the fear that had always tainted the nervous prince.

Merlin. His son.

_I still have him._ Gaius thought firmly as he prepared to enter the throne room. …_And Morgana's come back to me, thank the stars. Even young Arthur and Gwen… I haven't lost everyone just yet._

_Not even Uther._

Gaius' determination, that need to save his oldest friend from the dark the way he couldn't save the woman who might as well have been his daughter, shattered like glasswork as he entered to find Uther shouting madly in Morgana's face. With his hair tousled and the crown sitting at an odd angle on his head, he had never looked less like himself.

"YOU WILL DO AS I COMMAND!" He roared, causing Gwen's face to both flinch and then harden from where she was flanking Morgana.

"DO **NOT** RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME!" Morgana fired back just as loudly, shoving a bejeweled finger in his face. "You see betrayal where there is none- I've already agreed to marry him!"

"…Then why are you fighting me on this?" Uther continued after taking a moment to catch his breath, lowering his tone back to reasonable levels.

Morgana crossed her arms and gave a haughty toss of her hair.

"You said that the… the _wedding_ would be in a month, so what's changed?" She said, narrowing her eyes searchingly at him. "Why the sudden demand to have it today?"

"…My lord?" He entreated warily, closing the doors behind him before anyone else could bear witness to the verbal battle being waged. They both spun towards him, wearing identical relieved expressions. He and Gwen shared their own before he was suddenly accosted by an erratic king.

"Gaius, thank God." Uther was saying, wrapping a companionable arm around his old shoulders and steering him towards a very confused Morgana. "You can explain the necessity of this, can't you?"

"Ah…" He said noncommittally, at a loss. The helpless look he directed towards Morgana prompted her to come to his rescue.

"I was just now _trying_ to understand where my king is coming from…" she said with a worried look in her eyes. "…hopefully without starting a confrontation."

"Excellent work, my lady." Came Gwen's cheerful whisper from behind her, but Uther's famous hearing had not worsened in his old age and he shot the handmaiden an utterly bizarre look that Gaius could not for the life of him figure out. It seemed half shock at her gall, and half a kind of terrified nostalgia, as if he was just making a connection that he had never made before. Morgana subtly stepped further between them, young Gwen subverting expectation by leaning over her lady's shoulder to level the king with a gaze as surprisingly heavy as it was cool.

For that odd instant, the simple servant girl was the most royal person in the room.

It only took a half a second, then, for Gaius to realize what a strange call back the two women were to Nimueh and Ygraine's unlikely friendship, and the united front they had always been to Uther's face. From the look on it now, the king was not happy with the connection he had made, and Gaius had precious moments to head off Mount Pendragon's eruption.

"Why now, sire?" He said abruptly and sure enough Uther broke his simmering glare to give him a surprised look. "You have had many years to marry off Arthur and Morgana... why is it so necessary all of a sudden?"

Uther gave him _that_ look, the one that said he expected someone as intelligent and loyal as he to perfectly grasp what the king was thinking and support him completely. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Gwen and Morgana not-so-subtly leaning forward to catch his response, sharing an excited look now that the only man Uther (occasionally) listened to had arrived. He only hoped he could help as much as they thought he could, because he couldn't imagine what they were feeling because of this farcical engagement, or worse what his boy was going through.

After another few seconds of that stunned, searching glance, Uther leaned forward conspiratorially, giving his ward and her maid a warning look to back away and not eavesdrop. Gaius fought the urge to pull back at the undulating emotions in his eyes, because Uther still had him around the shoulders and suddenly it felt less than friendly. Suddenly, it felt less like he was talking to his old friend, and more like that last confrontation with Nimueh.

It even felt a bit like facing down the Great Dragon.

"It's coming for her, Gaius." He whispered, somehow managing to sound both threatening and pleading at once. Gaius could see the terrified tears welling in his eyes. "…This all I can do protect her. Because it's _coming_, a-and I don't know how to stop it anymore."

The physician darted a concerned glance at Morgana, who had strained to hear the hushed words but seemed to have gotten them, and tried to send her a wordless plea not to interject. As usual when it came to Uther Pendragon, she couldn't resist.

"…_What_ is, sire?" She said softly, compassionately, before yelping in pain as the king was suddenly on her, grabbing the lapel of her overgown forcefully.

"_Magic,_ Morgana!" Uther growled in her face, the fear written all over her spiking a fury that Gaius hadn't truly felt in years. "It's everywhere, child, can't you feel it? It wants you, just the way it wanted-"

"Un_hand_ her, this instant!" Gaius heard himself shout, and he'd feel more shocked at his own outrage if he wasn't so concerned with the bullying, piteous man in front of him. He stomped forward and boldly grabbed Uther's collar, an old man trying to drag a trained knight away like a dog. The image would be funny if the reaction it provoked wasn't so horrible.

Uther made an odd sound, like a scared animal, and before he knew what was happening the king had spun around and struck him hard enough to crack bone. Gaius barely registered the white hot pain in his chest as fragile ribs splintered, or Uther's cold eyes looking at him with no recognition of who he was, the dull thump of his own body hitting the ground, the screams from the two young women in the room. He didn't see Gwen rushing to his aid, or Morgana backhanding the king with all her might, and the fist that shot forward in retaliation. Could not feel the temperature in the room suddenly drop several degrees, or hear a familiar voice shouting at the top of his voice.

All Gaius knew before the darkness took him again, was that he had failed another member of his family.

###

"LEAVE. HER. **ALONE.**"

Merlin should not feel such a thrill at the way everyone in the room froze at the sound of his voice, turned towards him like scared rabbits. But right now the part of him that would be censuring that sensation was silent and bleeding, and all that was left of him was _Emrys_, unrestrained.

(The storm howled with newfound power.)

Thunder boomed and lightning flashed, and his long fingers itched with that roiling power, begging to be released at the sight of his wife, his e_verything,_ and the fist still frozen in the air mid-punch in front of her. Merlin had spent so long protecting this man; now, he wondered why he had ever saved his worthless life.

(A gust of wind snuffed the torches out.)

Nimueh and Hengist were _nothing_ compared to Uther Pendragon.

(The windows cracked.)

…And Uther was nothing compared to _him._

(Animals across Camelot cried and screamed.)

If he could kill them, end their cruelty just like that… then how hard could this be?

(The Great Dragon laughed insanely, scrabbled excitedly at rock and chain, begged and pleaded for the young warlock to just finally _do it._)

_Not very hard at all._

"M-Merlin, Gaius is hurt!"

And just like that, his center had returned.

Even in the dark he could see those eyes, glittering mint like the limestone she sometimes wore, wide and afraid. She was scared, his Morgana was _scared…_ not _of Uther,_ but _for him._ The ice receded with each second he held her gaze, being replaced by the warm familiar guilt, before he suddenly remembered her words and cast his eyes about the dim throne room in a panic.

"Gaius-!"

"Over here!" Arthur said at the base of the throne; at some point he had rushed from his side to Gwen's, and they were both knelt over his mentor's limp form, feeling for a pulse or breath. The old man looked just like he had last year, lifeless at Nimueh's feet… because Merlin hadn't been there to protect him.

With a wordless shout he was across the room, Morgana meeting him halfway as they all surrounded Gaius. Dimly, he was aware of Uther stumbling back a few steps, a horrified expression flitting across his face. For a moment they locked eyes, guilt meeting guilt, before Merlin sent him the darkest glare he could.

_Too little, too late, butcher._

"Is he alright?" Morgana said to Gwen, her voice shaking with barely suppressed panic, while Merlin moved to put a hand on his mentor's chest to feel for his breathing. They shared a look, trying to convey how much they just wanted to feel each other's arms right now, but both were still mindful to keep their distance while Uther was in the room. "I-I mean, of course he's not _alright,_ but is he…?"

Gwen shook her head tearfully, looking down at the old man as she felt for a pulse. Arthur put a comforting hand on her back, the motion seeming to literally draw the agony out of her in the same way Morgana's touch did to him, and _oh,_ how he needed to feel her right now.

Just another thing for Uther to take.

"He's alive." Merlin said abruptly as he felt the sudden expansion of Gaius' lungs, shoving thoughts of the tyrant king away before he got too close to his darker impulses again. "Thank the Gods, he's _alive."_

Morgana gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen, not even bothering to hide her tears, and he felt her magic stretch towards him and embrace him cautiously in a ghostly hug. Merlin let out the breath he was holding under her grip, their connection anchoring him just as well as her arms always had, almost laughing in relief as he felt Gaius take another unconscious breath.

And another. And another. And-

"Wh-what's happening?" Uther whimpered from somewhere above them, the gall of him, as if he had any place there with them...

Merlin bit down on his terror as Gaius shook under the bulk of his own gasps, his breathing growing more and more erratic. Gwen screamed as the old man coughed up blood, sightless eyes rolling back into his head, and Arthur and Morgana were in a panic, desperate for something, _anything_ to do.

But Merlin could only sit and stare, watch the ebb and flow of life itself in a way he hadn't been able to since he last needed to save Gaius, understood suddenly exactly what was wrong and exactly what was happening.

"Merlin!" Morgana shrieked helplessly, her shaking hands trying to steady his uncle's head as he continued to choke on his own internal bleeding, as his feeble heart began to give out under the stress of shattered bones.

"He's dying." Merlin whispered, and turned the full force of his glare on Uther Pendragon. "You've killed him."

###

**Gaius~! ;_;**


	23. The Problem With Silence

_Knock, knock._

Merlin didn't move an inch. He didn't care who it was at the door this time, didn't want any of them near him, wearing their consoling and pitying faces as if they understood. The only person he wanted had finally left, given him the space she thought he needed, when really all wanted was her arms around him. It was like there were rocks tying him down and lodged in his throat, and all the words and actions that used to be second nature to him wouldn't come anymore. He just sat in this chair, staring at the bed, unable to even tell his wife he loved her.

_Knock, knock, knock._

Oh, more insistent this time, are we? Still not going to get him up, thank you very much, he was perfectly comfortable right here, wouldn't be moving an inch until Morgana swanned back through the door to his old room to try to tell him that everything would be okay again. To look at him with sadness and a just a bit of the hurt that she couldn't help but feel, because no matter the reason he was shutting her out and neither of them could even grasp why. He'd do better next time. He'd show her, anew, just how much she meant to him.

_Knock, knock, knock!_

If only she would just come back to him.

_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK!_

Oh, for the love of-

"WHAT?" Merlin shouted involuntarily, and before he could stop it the door magically slammed open so hard it nearly tore itself of its hinges. The barest tinges of panic at his recklessness faded when he saw who was standing in the doorway, giving him that familiar sympathetic look that never ceased to calm him, and _oh-_

"_Mother…"_ he breathed, words leaving his lips for the first time in a week.

"My son…" Hunith said caringly, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click and surveying the room that he had lived in him for over a year, the one that he had already said goodbye to in favor of his wife's lush chambers which had become home. It was bizarre, seeing his mother after all this time, standing there in her humble beige dress and that dumb blue scarf she always wrapped around her head (he kept telling her to wear it around her neck, it was much more fashionable) looking both out of place and perfectly at home in Gaius' chambers. Two sections of his past meeting, in a way that they hadn't since Nimueh had last struck at him through her.

"_You should not have killed my friend."_

Merlin shook himself inwardly to kill the old memory, and the chill it brought him.

Overwhelmingly, he wanted to be in her arms, to have his mother comfort him the way she had time and time again when the villagers would look at him with fear or contempt. But the rocks were back, and all he could do was sit at the bedside, staring down at the sight of his latest failure. Hunith came up beside him, a hand on his shoulder and gentle eyes on his face imploring him to look at her, but when he didn't she turned to regard the figure on the bed alongside her son.

Gaius lay stretched out on the old bed, probably the first time he had actually slept in it since he had given it to Merlin in favor of a ratty old cot that wrecked his back, stubbornly refusing any attempts to give him back his room. ("Young boys need their own space, Merlin, and my back isn't about to get any better regardless.") The old man looked small and unusually gaunt under the covers, their slight rise and fall the only sign that life still flowed within the battered body. Even still, Merlin found he preferred the barely perceptible breathing to the staccato gasps that haunted his every waking moment. He knew soon he would have to change the bandages tightly wrapping his chest- though his wounds had already been healed they needed to keep up the appearance of a slow recovery- but couldn't for the life of him imagine having to feel the tiny beating of his heart, always on the edge of collapse.

_This shouldn't have happened!_ He wanted to scream. _I should have been there!_

"Is there still no sign of him awakening?" Hunith whispered finally, and an odd part of him resented her for breaking his silence, for forcing him to face what had nearly happened. He felt his neck crack with unused bones as he finally moved it to stare up at her.

_I don't know what's wrong with him anymore._ Merlin swallowed down the words that wouldn't come, and just shook his head, holding her warm gaze. She nodded sadly, sparing her uncle another look before turning her full attention back onto her son, inspecting him in that aggravating way that only a parent could.

"You've grown up so much while you've been gone, Merlin." Hunith said as she tilted his head up to make him look at her again, and the _pride_ in her made him want to gag. What did he have to be proud of? Almost the second the thought passed his mind her face went stern and _oh,_ he was in for a scolding now... "Now don't you do that to yourself, love. You're not the one who attacked a seventy-year old man… this isn't your fault!"

Merlin averted his gaze.

_Well of course it's not._ His dark voice thought, the almost Nimueh-ish drawl that came from time to time to say what he couldn't allow himself to, and he found he vastly preferred his Will voice. _I know _exactly_ who did this… and where he sleeps._

It was time to start talking again, because he didn't at all like what he was thinking.

"Morgana sent for you?" He croaked, rubbing absentmindedly at the bristle that had grown in the past seven days that he had sat unmoved at his mentor's bedside, vowing that he would not pass away or wake up alone. Hunith grinned, his own stupid smile echoed back at him.

"She thought you might need me. You know, I always knew you would find someone who would see how special you are," she chuckled fondly. "But I had honestly forgotten just how beautiful she was. Will would be torn between being happy for you and being green with envy, I think."

Merlin felt a rough laugh escape him; he was finally far enough away from Will's death that the warmth his remembrance brought outweighed the grief. He wondered how long it would take to get there with Gaius' memory… or if he ever could should he stay in his quiet coma, a still reminder of what he had lost.

"I don't think I've been very good to her lately…" he muttered, trying and failing to thwart her stubborn attempts at keeping their eyes locked. There was little hiding from his mother when she wanted to comfort you.

The week had been a long series of trials for husband and wife… the initial rush to try to save Gaius, the nightlong battle with his failing heart and the subtle healing spells woven between conventional medicine, the realization that he was alive and okay and yet still asleep, and the candlelit vigil at his side praying to please, _please_ wake up… through it all Morgana had been beside him, patiently forcing him to eat or sleeping curled up against him in his chair. Looking up at him with imploring eyes, trying to get him to come back to her… she couldn't know how much he wanted to, if only he knew what was wrong with him.

_That's a lie._ Inner Nimueh belittled harshly, and he wondered again where his Will voice had fled too. _You know what's wrong… you almost lost control and now you're too scared to do anything for fear of doing it again._

Merlin groaned out loud. It was true, wasn't it? Morgana had taught him to let go of himself and look where it had gotten them? Look where it had gotten Gaius; collateral damage in their brazen little fight against Uther? And now here was, trying to bottle himself back up again, ignoring that she was hurting too, that she had lost a father figure as well and the absolute last thing she needed was to think of losing him as well.

"I've been terrible to her…" he said at last, burying his face in his hands to try to forget the look on her face when all he could do was kiss her lightly, when he wouldn't even talk to her anymore beyond single words. "I'm the worse husband ever…"

"No, honey, you're just a little lost right now." Hunith encouraged from above him, looking amused. "And, by the way, where exactly was my wedding invite?"

Oh, that.

"Erm… got lost in the mail?" Merlin grimaced sheepishly.

"Mm, I'm sure. But yes, my new daughter did mention that you've been pulling away." At his panicked look, his mother smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Morgana understands completely… says you're 'a damn sight better' than she was when she's grieving, although appearances aside I _do_ think she's hurting as much as you are."

Merlin shook his head again mournfully, because whatever she said she was _not_ okay.

"I don't know how I got so lucky as to find her." He whispered, running a shaking hand through the strands that had grown out even longer in the past week. A haircut was probably imminent, though seeing as Morgana had declared ownership over all rights to his body and what he did with it (especially his hair) he'd probably have to run it past her first. Of course, that would entail talking to her…

"Merlin…" Hunith said, crouching down next to his chair and brushing her own calloused hand through his scalp like mother hen grooming her chick. "You obviously need her quite a bit. So why do you think you can't talk to her right now?"

…_Because I came this close to slaughtering a man like a swine, and all because he almost laid a hand on her._

Yes, he had certainly changed since he had left Ealdor. The wide-eyed adventurous boy had become a killer so fine that the _slightest threat_ to the love of his life was enough to send him into a murderous rage. And Gods forbid if you actually hurt her… just look what he had done to Hengist. He was no longer passively killing in self-defense, but _viciously_ _massacring_ in _her_ defense, and that thought terrified him. In his addled mind, it was easier to lay that at Morgana's feet than at his own, easier to try to push away his trigger rather than let her comfort him, and draw him even further into her and the blackness that overcame him every time she and Uther were mentioned in the same sentence.

"Merlin, tell me what happened." Hunith said worriedly when he didn't reply. Merlin looked up at her from where he had been burning a hole in the floorboards, (literally, in his case) and sighed. Yes, it was definitely time to start talking.

"Arthur and I came into the throne room, and there was Gaius on the floor, probably already dying..." He began guiltily, eyes boring into hers, baring his soul the way he had all those years ago when she was the only one he could talk to. "…a-and I didn't even notice. All I could see was Morgana- _my Morgana-_ and the hand coming at her."

Hunith stiffened beside him, repressing the spark of anger before it ignited. (_I used to be able to do that…_)

Merlin screwed up his eyes and let out a harsh breath.

"…I yelled at him, ordered him away from her. The king of Camelot, and I _commanded_ him, like an equal. He froze, Mother, everybody did… and I _liked_ making him stop in his tracks."

"…Of course you did, Merlin." She said with an anxious laugh. "He was about to strike the woman you love, why wouldn't you want to stop him?"

"Stopping him wasn't enough." Merlin growled, painfully aware of her flinch at the animalistic noise. "I wanted him dead, Mother, dead and gone and never to hurt her again… because it seems to be all he does. I wanted to _kill him_ _for her,_ and I _delighted_ in how easy it would be."

He couldn't look at her when he said it, staring shamefully at her knees, and so was shocked when he heard a quiet peal of laughter. When she caught his flabbergasted look, Hunith gave him an apologetic one.

"I'm sorry, it's just…" Her face became pained, an old familiar flash that made it look like she was about to collapse in on herself. "With you all sort of… protective and angry, you- um… well, you sounded very much like your father just now…"

"You-you never talk about Father…" Merlin said in awe, the simple childish desire to know more about his parentage suddenly overriding all the guilt and fear that had been bothering him beforehand. She heaved a remorseful, pained sigh.

"It's, it's next to impossible, sometimes…" She began falteringly. "…to talk about the person you love after you've lost them for good."

Merlin winced. Would this be what became of Morgana, should her vision come true? Would memories of him be doomed to never leave her lips again, remain locked up safely deep inside where she couldn't think about him? The idea of it, of becoming a ghost to haunt her, to cause her torment instead of joy, burned like fire in his chest. The pain helped dodge the logical conclusion of that thought… that if losing Ygraine Pendragon destroyed the good in her husband, then what would it do to Morgana to lose him?

_She _needs_ me._ Merlin thought suddenly.

_Oh, hey, look,_ Inner Will interrupted cheerfully, returning suddenly with a cheeky lilt in his not-voice. _Those pesky rocks are all gone, fancy that!_

Hunith yelped as her son rocketed to his feet, suddenly alive again.

"I have to go." He announced, because if there was one conversation he should be having with his wife, it was this one. She was grieving just as badly as he was, and she had to know why he had only made it worse instead of letting her in. She had to know that his guilt and self-loathing weren't her fault… that the thought of her could _never_ cause him pain.

So strong was his resolve that he almost forgot why he was away from her and in this room in the first place. The steel in him faded as he looked down at Gaius' still form… he couldn't leave him, could he? Until, that is, a small hand on his brought him back to his mother's encouraging smile.

"I'll look after him, love." She said with a firm nod. "Go get her."

Merlin nodded back, and lifted his free hand to give Gaius's limp one a promising grasp, before kissing his mother on the forehead and racing out with the first true smile he had worn in a week. It was a grin that was immediately broken when he spotted the shelf in the main chamber as he passed, the one with the large dark bottle boldly labeled with a skull; Gaius had long since trained him to keep an eye on the hemlock's place of resting when Gaius had it out for studying.

…Which was why he immediately noticed that said deadly poison had vanished.

"Oh, _no…_"

Merlin ran out of the room at top speed, towards Morgana.

###

Morgana heard two things as she approached the dining room for dinner, the torchlight flaring and shrinking with every step she took down the empty corridor as she let her rage stew.

The first was the slight rustle of her wedding band shifting against the dagger sheathed in it, a reminder of what was about to happen that brought her intense satisfaction of a kind she knew Merlin would frown upon. (…_Probably because he's growing ever more capable of it.)_

The second was the sounds of the Pendragon men having _another_ spat.

"How _dare_ you!"

"I am only doing what is necessary!"

"He's not even dead yet and you're already trying to replace him?"

"PEOPLE ARE SICK, CAMELOT NEEDS A PHYSICIAN!"

"WELL IT HAD ONE UNTIL YOU GAVE HIM A HEART ATTACK!"

Dead silence. She could taste the guilt and the denial on the air even from the other side of the door, and savored it. That is, until she spotted Gwen arriving with a tray of food, worriedly listening in from off to the side instead of going in to deliver dinner. Sir Leon stood looking stoically ahead, valiantly ignoring his duty to keep his childhood friend away from the door. The worried furrow in her brow and that slight frizz to her normally fine locks made Morgana realize just how worried her friend was becoming… it was a look she had been wearing constantly around Morgana recently.

No words had been necessary between them; neither believed for a second that Morgana wanted to take Arthur away from his lover, so no jealousy had bloomed in her best friend's heart, thank the stars. All the same, the simple fact that she would soon be marrying the man Gwen loved was something that could not be brushed over, and though she knew her handmaiden bore her no animosity, on some level it had to sting for her rich noble friend to have yet another thing that Gwen couldn't… much less something that she desperately needed. Their relationship had shifted yet again, in what direction she didn't know, but she dearly missed the simple days when they were joined at the hip.

_As much as I miss the days when Merlin wasn't heartbroken…_

Gwen caught her eyes, and the camaraderie and shared loss- because she wasn't the only one missing Gaius and Merlin- snapped her back to reality. In that glance, she knew that whatever happened, they _always _would be sisters. With a shaky smile to a worried Leon, a firm nod to Guinevere, and a meaningful look at the serving she carried, the knight firmly pushed open the doors, and…

…_Oh_.

Of all the sights Morgana expected to find, she could not have imagined Uther Pendragon sobbing openly into his hands at his seat, while Arthur towered over him, furious and confused and just a little embarrassed. Their eyes both shot towards the opening door simultaneously, taking in the squirming Leon and the two shocked women standing in wait. Arthur's entire body seemed to soften as his eyes met Gwen's and she gave him a subtly encouraging look, the love between them making Morgana warm and guilty and just a bit nostalgic for the days when Merlin's eyes held more than all-consuming grief. (_Stop it, Morgana, that's not his fault…)_

For Uther's part, his eyes seemed to pass over Gwen entirely like all servants, and with a thrill of anger Morgana realized just how much of an afterthought stopping Gwen from pursuing Arthur was too him. He probably saw her as a notch on his son's bedpost and nothing more, whereas _her_ pursuer was a penniless cad threatening to 'soil' her. The double standard incensed her almost as much as the utter disrespect for Gwen- _If you're going to ruin her life, at least acknowledge her as a worthy opponent!-_ but at the moment she was still a little preoccupied with the tears her guardian was roughly brushing from his face.

"Ah, dinner is served at last!" He said between sniffles, turning _that_ look onto them until Leon left and the three remaining bowed their heads before him. Yes, they all knew what would happen should anyone let slip of the iron king's moment of weakness... moment of _guilt._

_Too little, too late, butcher._ Morgana snarled inwardly, as she sat demurely at Uther's side and gave her foster brother a significant look until he stopped staring at Gwen and followed her lead. As she laid the plump feast before the royal family Morgana's eyes followed the food, skillfully dodging all of Uther's attempts to catch her eye with his apologetic looks. She hadn't spoken to him at all this past week… had said all she wanted to with the harsh backhand she had given him, and the red cut her ring had made into his cheek.

Not that Uther had tried very hard to talk to her since trying to hit her and nearly killing Gaius… as far as she knew, he had been mostly holed up in the king's chambers, doing God knows what… though Leon had mentioned shouts and sobs late at night. Morgana felt her lips curl upwards, riding the fresh column of white-hot fury burning through her. The king felt _guilty_, oh yes, and his attempts at running from that the way he ran from all his feelings were crumbling around him.

She allowed her eyes to linger on her guardian's as he tried to pull Arthur into a tax discussion he was stubbornly ignoring, following the tears tracks on his face. The thought of him in such pain, after everything he had done to them, to Arthur and Gwen, to herself and Gaius, to Merlin; _her_ Merlin, sitting alone and broken waiting to watch another friend die before him…

After everything, Uther's pain was _delicious._

"…Is there no hope for Gaius?"

"Hmm?" Morgana said foolishly, her head snapping up to meet Arthur's inquiring look, and the faint worry and suspicion in it. She shook her head tearfully… whatever had happened between her and Gaius was irrelevant now that he seemed on death's door. "No, whatever he's suffering… I-I'm afraid he's still asleep."

She was choking back her own sobs before the sentence was finished, and something very strange happened then.

Out of the corner of her eye, Morgana caught Uther giving her the most open and honest look she had ever seen on his face. And for just a moment, the briefest of instants, she saw the endless spring of guilt that ran beneath him, gaped at a gentle compassion she had never known, internalized the revulsion at what he had done, and almost accepted the apology that he could never voice. For that one second, she saw the human being beneath the madness.

And by the time she had turned fully towards him, the shutters came back down and he was raising a slice of meat to his mouth as if he had not a care in the world.

Morgana could barely restrain her grin.

###

"_My-my lady!"_

_Annabelle the infuriatingly pretty laundry maid jumped in fear as she rounded the corridor to meet her, causing her to fumble and drop the folded clothes in her arms in a very Merlinish manner. It wasn't nearly as adorable when she did it. The girl blushed attractively under long eyelashes and ducked to pick them up._

"_Oh, my sincerest apologies _Annabelle,_ I didn't see you there." She said, trying and failing to swallow the bite in her voice as she knelt with much more grace than the little tart would ever have. "Please, let me help."_

"_Uh-um, th-thank you…?" The girl stuttered, as she briefly met her eyes, and Morgana felt a flash of remorse. The poor girl seemed genuinely kind, if utterly brain dead… and it wasn't like she could hold it against her for falling for the most beautiful man in the castle, was it? And now here she was, terrified she was about to be struck down for her obvious crush on Merlin. Morgana bit down on her own tongue in protest, because it had been a long day and Gaius was still asleep and Merlin was still barely there, and it would be so much easier to take out her helplessness on someone who actually deserved a tongue-thrashing._

_Still, Merlin had chosen _her,_ wanted _only her… _it was time to let go of petty fears. She had a job to do._

"_Annabelle." Morgana said, only half-relishing the flinch as the scared girl said looked up at her like a rabbit under a hunter's bow. "You're friends with the head cook, correct?"_

"_M-Minnie?" She squeeked. "I- um- yes?"_

_Morgana nodded, flashing a reassuring smile._

"_Oh, that's wonderful!" She cooed in a decidedly out of character fashion, trying to put the dim girl at ease. From out of her sash she produced an expensive flask. "I was wondering if you might be able to take this to her to use for the king's dinner tonight; only, it's been a terrible week for him and I wanted to do something to cheer him up."_

"_O-oh, yes, I heard!" Annabelle brightened, accepting the flask with shaking hands. "An assassin attacking poor old Gaius… i-is Merlin alright?"_

_That brazen little harlot…_

"_Oh, um, n-nevermind." She cringed beneath Morgana's involuntary glare. "I- what is this?"_

"_Just some left over dressing those dignitaries brought with them a while back; very exotic, the king can't get enough of it… but it's only for him, you understand? I was saving it for myself, but…"_

_As she waved the girl off with the flask, Morgana smugly tossed the empty bottle of hemlock out the window._

###

Morgana watched excitedly as the fork spearing the poisoned meat brushed against Uther's thin lips; it was over, he would pay, they would all be free, _Merlin_ would be free-

And that was when her husband burst into the chambers.

"Sauce has arrived!" He shouted cheerfully, holding up a bottle of Uther's _actual_ favorite dressing. "It turns out we had one left over in the store room!"

There was a tense moment between Uther and Merlin, where both were clearly remembering the last time her love had thrown open those doors at the top of his lungs, but surprisingly the animosity in the king's eyes faded with a single glance in her direction. As if realizing that Merlin had only acted in her protection… as if bowing to his conscience for once…

Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief as he wordlessly gestured Merlin over… dropping his fork back onto his plate in the process.

As Merlin poured the sauce over Uther's extravagant meal, she felt the tinges of her husband's magic at work in it, discreetly purifying the tainted food. His eyes rose slowly to meet hers.

"_This isn't the way, Morgana."_

Her fist tightened around her spoon, and he almost backed up under her glare.

"…_Next time, my love… you won't be able to stop me."_

###

**See, I told you I'm back! ^_^  
**

**Grief does funny things to people. Sometimes it can make you weep or rage or just be hypersensitive, but sometimes it can also just kind of freeze you solid. Which is funny because Gaius isn't even dead yet, but the effect is pretty much the same, isn't it? Also, surprise Hunith, because she's totally awesome and deserves so much more attention, seriously. And no, for anyone disappointed, this is not the end of the fallout of Uther's actions last chapter. For the good king, there's little escaping judgement...**

**Oh, hey, funny story; I was flipping through old stuff I'd written and found my author's note for ch14, in which I hilariously promised that "The good news is, the angst is over!" Oh, self, why so naive? Mo' chapters, mo' problems. But fluff too! Sometimes! ;D**

**Next time: The Fight. With a capital 'F'. Hoo boy...  
**


	24. The Ebb

Even from across the castle, Morgana could feel him.

It was rare that their magical bond was able to stretch across a distance as large as the one separating the dining room and her- _their-_ chambers, but for whatever reason she could feel her husband's turmoil as if he were sitting right next to her instead of the decidedly not dead king. Rage, guilt, sorrow, and just a bit of dark remorse radiated into her as she eat as hastily as propriety would allow, but she savored each blow to his heart even as she ached for him. It meant that he was still alive, still here with her… hadn't abandoned her, and would _never._

The relief at having him full of life again almost stilled her fury.

_Almost._

But then something happened to take her mind off of the frustrated betrayal sitting in her heart, made her sit up straight and drop her fork with a clatter.

The edges of a dreaded voice echoed into her through their tether, an almost seductive drawl speaking something for Merlin's ears alone. She felt him get to his feet, full of anger yet oddly hopeful, and fled their chambers to head for the Great Dragon's cavern.

Morgana quickly killed images of him awash in flames while cruel amber orbs looked down at him, smothered them with a panicked intensity. He had more than proven capable of taking care of himself, and to hear the dragon tell it he had already defeated a previous attempt on his life before; so what was she worrying about? Merlin would be fine until she could get away without suspicion, she told herself, willed herself to remember the tinges of affection and concern for him in the beast's voice. Perhaps he actually meant to help this time...?

When Merlin seemed to realize the waves he had been sending off, he snapped his walls down promptly and suddenly the mere _not knowing_ began to eat at her. She made her decision in a split second.

_To hell with propriety!_

When she waved off Gwen and made to stand, Uther uttered a sound as if about to protest. A hard glare seemed to stifle him; she still hadn't forgiven him for the callous dismal he gave Merlin after he had saved the tyrants ungrateful hide, yet again. (Never mind that the fool didn't even know it…)

"I-it has been a long week, my lord," she said timorously, but firmly, trying to hide her growing panic. "And a lady does need her beauty sleep. Come, Gwen."

"Oh! Ah, yes, my lady." Gwen obeyed, following the tail-end of her red dress as she swept out of the dining room. She was not about to leave her best friend in Uther's presence without her, even with Arthur there; _especially_ with Arthur there, as the obvious chemistry between them might just be enough to set Uther off again.

As Gwen gave Arthur one last parting look before Leon closed the door behind them, Morgana gave her friend a sympathetic expression and a firm grasp. Gwen accepted both gratefully, returning them with a concerned glance at her lady's growing anxiety but receiving no explanation. After a moment of camaraderie, hand-in-hand, they left the Pendragons behind, heading for one of the main corridors as fast as Morgana's clicking heels could take them.

"Ah, I'm going this way..." Gwen broke their companionable silence when they arrived, gesturing to the path that would take her back to her lonely house in the lower quarter of town. In the opposite direction was the staircase leading down to the dungeons, to snoozing guards and brimstone air and her husband about to stare down his old puppetmaster. The worry was _killing_ her, but she had to convincingly see Gwen off, make sure her curiosity about her lady's simmering terror didn't get the better of her, and lead her stumbling into the devil's nest.

"…And I'm going this way." Morgana replied with a shaky smile, the best that she could do since Gaius had almost died trying to protect her and Merlin had collapsed in on himself. Gwen let out a laugh just as unsteady.

"Do you know, I don't think I've been in your chambers for _ages _now?"

Morgana shook her head and smiled; with Merlin practically residing there at night, Morgana had felt a sudden urge to do her own chores like her husband had too, and to curb Merlin's lackadaisical approach to picking up after them. (She would not live in a pigsty like his room was, no matter how much she loved him.) With her actually learning how to clean and Merlin being berated into housekeeping as well as he did for Arthur, the need for a maid was almost entirely done away with.

Gwen had obviously been grateful, seeing as it gave her more time to sneak around with Arthur (his attempts at distancing himself to protect her seemed to have been shot down as hard as Merlin had lifted her of her similar feelings.) The both of them had been leaning on each other as much as they could without lifting Uther's suspicious brow- though thankfully (_for them)_ he was less paranoid about their 'dalliance' than he was _hers-_ as the seeming loss of both Gaius and Merlin over the past week had hit them nearly as hard as it had crippled her. Morgana had also noticed that Arthur's chambers were now as meticulously kept as hers had been when Gwen had run it, and she laughed at the thought that Merlin hadn't actually had to do his job much, since they had returned to Camelot from their impromptu honeymoon.

(She found she missed the forest quite a bit nowadays. The thought only reminded her of who she needed to be with right now; accompanied by a sudden flare of fear for him.)

"N-no, it's certainly been a while, Gwen." She conceded as she got back on track, sobered at the thought of Arthur and Merlin, the dynamic duo, drifting in opposite directions. Just like she and Gwen.

There was an odd moment between the two women, where they once again felt each other acknowledging how their path was forking but not knowing what to do about it, before Gwen gently released her hand and sweetly bade her a very good night. Watching her go, Morgana found that she hated this feeling, the ache that she was losing her sister just because they had both found loves that needed them more than they did each other.

And she'd already lost so much.

"Gwen!" Morgana heard herself call suddenly, watching her maidservant spin around in a flurry of curls to look at her, perplexed and a little bit hopeful.

"Y-yes, my lady?"

"I… I really _do_ love you." She said bravely, almost blushing in embarrassment because, somehow, this was the first time she had said it. "No matter what happens… you know that, right?"

Gwen's shock melted into a touched expression, and her smile looked like it could light the night sky.

"…As I love you, Morgana. Wherever we are, that will never change."

Morgana nodded to herself, perhaps the first true smile in far too long, and bade Gwen a good night of her own. This change in their lives may be unwelcome, but it would never stop them from being sisters, through and through.

Assured of her sudden insecurity, the lady schooled her features at Gwen's back and turned to face the ominous stairs. It was long past time now that they finished this conversation of theirs, she and that beast… so that he knew who Merlin belonged to now.

Morgana clenched her fist hard enough to draw blood.

_Because I wasn't kidding, when I told you I would do __**anything**__ to keep him safe_.

###

"…What do you mean, there's no cure?"

Merlin was not having a good night.

For what had turned out to be such a hopeful day, with his mother arriving to snap him out of his grief, things had quickly spiraled out of control. The rush to find out what Morgana had done with the poison, and to improvise a discreet way to stop it, had overridden everything else. A part of him still couldn't believe what she had almost done… and the rest of him couldn't believe he was actually surprised.

_As if she would ever be okay with letting him live._

That said, things had only gotten worse in the last few minutes, when his 'old friend' the Great Dragon had called to him where he waited for Morgana, promising that he knew a way to help Gaius. Although he should have known better, Merlin almost couldn't stop himself from sprinting down to the dark cavern, only to be faced with a wry dragon calmly shooting down his request for a cure.

_I __**really**__ should have known better._

The dragon titled his head, giving him an amused look from under non-existent eyelashes. It would be almost endearing, the way he mockingly imitated human expressions, if only it wasn't so _annoying._

"I told you that I have a way to _save_ Gaius," he rumbled almost cheerfully, like a big scaly child proud of having fooled a grown-up. "Not that there is a cure."

"Well enough wordplay, then!" Merlin shouted exasperatedly, with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, _very well_." He almost pouted, sounding most put out that he had to give a straight answer for once. "While I know of no way to reverse the damage to a body so old, I _do_ know of a power that can heal most anything. And the irony is that you already hold it… because you've used it to save him once before."

It took Merlin barely a second, shifting awkwardly under huge knowing eyes, before he caught on.

"Abso_lute_ly not!" Merlin heard himself yell; it sounded very far away from where he actually was, trapped in cruel memories of misty islands, and burning flesh.

"Denying the facts won't change anything." He said in a terrible sing-song voice.

"I said no, dragon!" He snarled back, and the venom in his voice seemed to break the dragon out of his good humor.

"Merlin, come now…" The dragon said insistently, and Merlin _loathed_ the worry for him held in those words; after everything he'd done… "Gaius is stable for the moment, but who knows for how long that will last? You need only take a single life to save him-"

"…And we both know who you're going to suggest, don't we?" Merlin whispered dangerously. (He was still getting used to the idea that he could _pull off_ 'dangerously'.)

"Uther nearly killed his oldest friend, without a thought." The dragon snorted, before turning a wide, excited expression on him that sent a shiver up his spine. "He has long-since forfeited the privilege of his life; _take it,_ and give it to someone who's earned it!"

"I-I-we don't have the right to make that decision!" Merlin found himself scrambling for an answer, because either he was in severe need of sleep or that almost sounded rational to him. "I've never _chosen_ to kill-"

"Dear Nimueh would disagree quite strongly, wouldn't she?" He volleyed, and Merlin pulled back as if struck. He lowered his gaze to the rocky floor, ashamed of the tears gathering against his will in his darting eyes.

No denial came to his lips, and the dragon seemed almost proud of that.

"You can lie to yourself all you like, my young warlock, but no matter how good at it you are…" He grinned that hungry grin. "…and you are _very_ good at it; the truth is that Gaius was dead, and you _chose_ to take Nimueh's life to resurrect him. No one forced you, because no one needed to."

And Merlin could remember all too well how it felt, to see Gaius discarded at the altar's base like so much _trash_ and Nimueh sashaying up to him with a slow smile, as if welcoming him home after a hard day... it wasn't fair, he had thought. Gaius was dead and _she_ was still there, mocking his memory; it felt as if the Gods had made some terrible oversight… and it was all up to him to correct it.

_Hengist_ had been the same, hadn't merited to be killed by complex magic, had only deserved to be thrown away like _nothing;_ and he had enjoyed every moment of it. In some ways, all of those things made what he had done to him much worse than what he had done to Nimueh.

But Merlin knew, knew in his very bones, that he had been on the edge of doing something even more terrible than both of his murders combined… Uther wouldn't have stood a chance, and he would never stop being ashamed of how far he had nearly gone that night.

How easy it would have been.

"If it was to save someone you love, than you had no choice at all."

At the new voice, the both of them snapped their heads towards the mouth of the cave.

Resplendent in red and looking both adoring and furious, his wife had arrived.

###

Morgana had never been this angry in her life.

On the one hand, finally learning the big Nimueh-shaped secret she'd been wondering about for so long only brought out her continuing frustration that Merlin kept some things from her. Nimueh, the dragon, his cursed _destiny _with Arthur, even keeping his magic and her dreams from her for over a year… suddenly it was all too much, and she was _seething._ It dovetailed perfectly with her confused fury at his thwarting her attempt to end his suffering at Uther's hand, and the sting of betrayal that he would actually work against her like that. (And she couldn't deny, a very large part of her was relishing the idea of killing Uther to save Gaius, and balking at Merlin's refusal.)

But that ire was born of out wounded love, and paled in comparison to the raging explosion headed the giant lizard's way.

Aiming the darkest glare she could muster at his stupid snout, she fought to suppress the rage by the time she reached Merlin, looking defeated and more apologetic than she'd ever seen him. (That was good.) Not just for tonight, but for the last week of silence… yet somehow she wasn't sure she was ready to let go of that just yet.

"Merlin… is _this_ your last big secret?" Morgana said softly as she reached him, placing a worried hand on his arms, crossed protectively over his chest. (The filthy beast snorted indignantly at being ignored.) "That you had to kill a woman to save a life?"

She laughed dismissively, trying not to fall into the ocean of guilt she could feel him drowning in, and smiled encouragingly.

"Why on Earth would you think you had to keep that from me?"

Merlin darted his eyes to the ground like a scolded child- she felt her heart swell at how damn _cute_ he could be- but the dragon answered for him.

"Mayhap he does not trust you as much as you might hope, _witch?_" It said pointedly, and there was a certain something about the line of its posture that made her think it was about to lunge at her. Sharing a fearful look with Merlin, she was about to tell it to snap it's charcoaled jaw closed (like any good offended noble) before her husband did it for her.

"SHUT UP!" He roared, and the both of them reared back in surprise as he rushed to her defense. He sobered slightly at their reactions, but kept a fiery gaze on the monster for a second before it softened as he turned to her. "There's no one I trust more than you… the woman I married."

And then he was _kissing_ her, right there in front of its deliciously horrified face… it was_ glorious._

Ignoring the outraged noises above them she pulled him further into her embrace, kneading her lips against his to let him know that yes, she was very angry, but it was all going to be okay now.

"_As long as I have you, it will always be okay."_ She whispered into him, for his ears only. His smile against her lips, and the slow diffusion of his guilt were her only answers. Nothing could part-

SMASH!

They both screamed like children as the cliff face was rocked by the sharp strike of the tail against it, sending them tumbling tangled together to the harsh gravel. Morgana smothered her terror under a royal glare and a huff of breath to blow out the hair in her face; she knew she had nothing to fear. Not with the man lying propped on bruised elbows beside her.

The dragon stood perched like a cat on its crag, sharp spiked tail swishing back and forth ominously behind it. There was a mad coldness in its visage, in the way it titled its head to regard them, that somehow reminded her of both Merlin and Uther at their worsts. It wore no expression anymore, but when it spoke its voice was full of a dark mirth.

"If you trust your _wife_ so much, than I suppose you've told her of the time you tried to let that little Druid boy die?"

…

_What?_

Images of him came to her, tiny and pale with big blue eyes peeking out mournfully under a mop of sooty hair. Of Merlin coming barreling in with him, swimming in his too-big cloak, and begging for a place to hide. Of how they had fought for him, together, and how _right_ it felt to be by his side.

No.

Morgana laughed, actually laughed, at this feeble attempt at a lie, propping herself up as well in a show of arrogant defiance, giving her love a sideways look to share in the joke.

Merlin wasn't laughing.

Merlin couldn't even look at her.

"His name was Morded, by the way." The dragon's- the filthy, monstrous creature's- smug voice said above them, but she could not look away from Merlin's distant gaze. "Such a tiny thing, for such a big destiny, don't you agree Merlin?"

Merlin winced at some hidden meaning in the words, and looked away to accidently lock eyes with her and be seemingly drawn in. The guilt was back in full force, lining his eyes like tears and-but- he _can't_ have- how _could_ he-?

He moved to reach from her, and she flinched and stumbled to her feet and away from him, mouthing wordlessly at his devastated expression.

"Morgana-"

"W-what destiny?" She finally managed, barely able to process what was being fed to her. Merlin stood tiredly, desperation etched into his body.

"I-I-" He trailed off wordlessly.

"Oh, do you want to tell her, or should I?" The dragon offered helpfully, mercilessly, and she closed her eyes and shook her head against the tears suddenly building.

"WE'VE HEARD ENOUGH FROM YOU!" Merlin shouted furiously, and the dragon gave a sarcastic bow of its head while he turned back to her entreatingly. He took a hesitant step forward, and stopped as she pulled even further back with a warning look.

"He-he told me that he was destined to kill Arthur."

Morgana felt a flash of outrage, braving a quick glance at the beast's self-righteous face, before turning back to Merlin and shaking her head in shock. All that time they were together, fighting for that poor boy for whom she felt a connection nearly as powerful as what she had initially felt for Merlin… and there her husband had been, plotting to let him get his _head chopped off-_

"I cared for him." She whispered suddenly, brokenly, not even sure why she felt so betrayed. "I don't know why, but I did, a-and you knew that and you were going to let him…"

"That was before I knew you, Morgana; _really_ knew you!" He said guiltily, shuffling closer under the dragon's watchful eye. His hands were on her arms now, frozen mid-embrace, and she allowed the touch, craved it even as she wanted to flinch away. "Everything was about Arthur for me then…"

"As it should be." The lizard interjected pompously.

"SHUT UP!" They both screamed, before turning back to each other like nothing had happened, like the other was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Please, Morgana…" He pleaded, beautiful even when begging, looking so scared and lost and _guilty_ that she wanted to strangle him as much as she wanted to hold him. Finally, the lock on her emotions seemed to break and her anger returned full force.

"He was just a little boy, Merlin!" She snarled, savoring his flinch. "A-and you, you believed- were going to just let- how could- _who ARE you?"_

"I couldn't, Morgana!" He shouted back, surprisingly, feeding off her rage as much as she was. "He-he was begging me, in my head, and I knew what I had been told and I _thought he was my friend _but-but-"

Merlin's arms dropped dejectedly, as all the energy drained out of him again, just like he had been before the lovely Hunith had pulled him out of his shell.

"But I saved him." He whispered pleadingly. "I _saved_ him…"

"You shouldn't have." The Great Dragon proclaimed coldly. "It is the witch Morgana's destiny to join Morded in an alliance of evil… and destroy Camelot."

Morgana shot Merlin a beseeching look despite herself, blindsided by the sudden revelation and the panic it incited in her. Of all that she laid bare before Merlin, the dragon's opinion of her- _my destiny-_ was the only thing she desperately kept hidden. He was such a believer in prophecy, and she had shown him enough of her darker impulses to lend the dragon credence. Seconds ago she couldn't stand the thought of him touching her again… but now, with the threat of him being convinced (even for a second) of her evil, like he had been convinced of the boy Morded's…

It was all she could do not to beg him to stay with her.

"I-I'm not…" She began, not even fighting the sudden overwhelmed tears dropping down her face. "I'd never, I _swear_…"

Abruptly she was surrounded by him, grateful arms crushing her against him as if terrified he could never do so again.

"I know, Morgana." He whispered into her hair devotedly. "I promise you, _I know_."

For seemingly the hundredth time that night, the pain and the betrayal seemed to melt away and all she was left with was _Merlin,_ her beautiful Merlin, come back to her. She had almost lost him, and he had come back to her. He had learned her destiny, and he had pardoned her without a moment's hesitation.

She couldn't withhold that same forgiveness from him if she tried.

"You came home to me…" Morgana whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him, to see the man he had become and not the boy dancing to the beast's tune. "Can we…?"

She made a gesture with her head, and Merlin in turn turned a dark glare up at the dragon watching them wide-eyed, a chilling sort of shock in its eyes. She saw for the first time the betrayal between them, the tenuous friendship the lonely boy had thought he was forming weaponized against him for God knows what reason…

"Yeah, let's go."

As they held tight to each other and whispered a chant to take them home to their rooms, vanishing in a whirlwind, she watched the dragon's murderous rage come to a boil, watched him exhale a gout of mad fire in their general direction… and made a promise, for Merlin's sake.

_First Uther… then you._

###

It took hours for Kilgarrah to stop roaring.

_Why couldn't he see?_ Even after he had told the boy of the witch's true nature- of _Mordred's_- he insisted on forgiving them, on offering them hope for a better future. Didn't he understand?

There was no hope. Not for any of them.

With the crumble of stone Kilgarrah smashed another section of rock wall with his tail, spitting flame at the rubble pettily. Amongst the clatter of falling earth, the Great Dragon let go of his rage and hung his ancient head. Despite himself, he couldn't get the image of them out of his head, disappearing together within that cyclone with identical expressions of resentment. It hurt more than he expected it too…

"I thought you were my friend!" Merlin had said near to tears, nearly half a year ago.

Kilgarrah wished he knew what that word meant anymore. Truly, he did.

The little witch was going to get him killed. And meanwhile, the real monster of this story was still alive and well, and here he was imprisoned and unable to do anything. Except…

Taking a deep breath, Kilgarrah's dry old voice took on the cadence of a young woman's, and he resumed his pet project.

"_Uther… Uther…"_

"_P-please… stop… I can't…"_

"_It's coming for her… it will steal her from you, just like it stole me…"_

"_No, I- I'm keeping her safe, I promise…"_

"_Please… try harder, my dearest… I love you too much to watch you suffer again."_

"…_I love you too, my Ygraine."_

Kilgarrah broke the connection, resumed his normal voice, and laughed.

If he couldn't kill Uther Pendragon, he could certainly drive him mad enough to provoke the witch into doing it for him.

###

**Oh Kilgarrah, you and your infodumps. ^_^**

**For ages now, people have been O_Oing at Uther's increasing craziness, and wondering just where this is all coming from. (To the point where I'm surprised nobody had anything to say last chapter about macho Uther sobbing in front of his son.) Well, now you know what's been making him sink so fast. It's hard being psychotic and bipolar, especially when there's a voice pretending to be your dead wife following you around, playing on all your fears. D:**

**Apologies for the lateness; I got side-tracked with another Mergana story (don't worry, just a one-shot!) and had a lot of trouble with this chapter. This WASN'T actually all of The Fight, by the way, but the chapter was so damn long already I ended up cutting it in half; that's why this is listed as a two-parter, not because anything very lifechanging happens. There'll be more in part two, as they try to better work out some of their issues re: Morded, Uther, Gaius, and the engagement. Should be fun~!**

**Next Time: Mergana has a polite discussion on destiny, deception, and death. And by polite discussion, I mean screaming fit. Also, snuggling! :DDDDDD**


	25. The Flow

Arthur awoke in shock as a familiar form embraced him fiercely, burying her head in his bare chest.

"G-Guinevere…?" He said in shock, rewarded with a glimpse at those dark eyes he so loved. They were wide with fright. "Guinevere, what…?"

She screwed her eyes shut and held him tighter, trembling more than he'd ever seen.

But no matter how many times he asked, she wouldn't tell him what had her so terrified.

###

The materialized back in their chambers, the whirlwind knocking books over tables, and with a quiet chime the pre-set silence wards clamped down to give them privacy.

For a moment, all Merlin could do was stare at her in his arms, wide-eyed and tired. How had he not noticed how exhausted she looked, the dark circles under her eyes? She seemed to shrink under his inspection, the surprisingly insecure side of her making a brief appearance thanks to the cracks in her armor.

Morgana's hand came up to caress the side of his face, nervous eyes becoming grateful.

"You're yourself again." She exhaled, as if only now able to breathe. "Since Gaius, I thought I had lost you; I-I thought you'd never be the same again…."

"I'm _so_ sorry, Morgana." Merlin whispered, furious with himself. "I shouldn't have tried to pull away from you. I just couldn't-"

Something he had said seemed to break the moment because her face fell and she was pulling away before he could stop her.

"I know why you were… grieving like that, Merlin." She said briskly, her back to him as she began picking up the scattered books. "I'm just glad your mother was able to bring you back to me."

Merlin stared morosely, watching her go about righting the room like a woman on a mission.

"Morgana-"

"Hunith's so wonderful, isn't she?" Her overly chipper voice cut him off dead, as she placed the vase of lilacs back on her nightstand. "She didn't even hesitate to come all this way when I asked, and we had _such_ a good talk."

Merlin winced; there was a certain tone in her voice, masking the hurt and the abandonment, saying 'you should have been there.' He knew she saw it and relished it; although he was forgiven, there was a vindictiveness in her tonight for which he had only himself to blame.

"…I truly wished she lived in Camelot, don't you?" She was saying, still with that awful fake smile. "Oh, of course you do; spend half your letters trying to convince her to move, the stubborn woman…"

"I know how hard it must have been." Merlin said, his voice finally making her stop dead in her tracks with her back to him. "Gaius… is gone, and when you needed someone I wasn't there; not really."

She stiffened at his words, and Merlin shook his head and continued.

"When you needed comforting more than anything, instead you had to comfort me; it wasn't fair."

"No," Morgana bit out, though with a leap of his heart he realized she was having trouble keeping the venom in her voice. "But I understand why it happened. You… wanted to get back control of yourself, because you'd almost struck down Uther for me."

Merlin flinched again, remembering how close he had been that night, how terrified he still was at going back to that dark place inside himself; because all his justifications for keeping Uther alive were slipping under the tide of his grief. He had shut himself down to put a wall between them… because for some reason how much he loved her seemed to go hand in hand with how much he wanted Uther dead.

It had been a terrible thing to do, even subconsciously, and he'd never wanted her to know about it.

"I'm a killer, is that it Merlin?" Morgana half-sobbed, spinning towards him with a heartbroken fury he hadn't seen in ages. "Li-like the Druid b- like _Mordred?_ It's my destiny, right! And we both know you're _such_ a believer in destiny!"

Merlin dropped his gaze to the floor, away from her hurt, accusing stare.

He hadn't let himself think about the boy, Mordred, since he had last seen him on Arthur's horse. At first didn't want to think about his best friend's bleak destiny waiting out there in the forest somehow, and later didn't want to think about the poor boy who he had almost let die because of the dragon's cruel lies. But the guilt had remained, pulsing deep within him…

"Not anymore." Merlin vowed, meeting her eyes again. "I promise you, Morgana, I don't think you- _either of you-_ are evil, and I'm so, _so_ sorry for what I almost let happen."

Morgana opened her mouth to shout something, sending him reeling back at the force of her roiling emotions flooding the room, before she clamped it shut with a guilty look and turned away.

"…I don't blame you." She whispered, reluctantly but genuinely. "Truly, I don't. I can't imagine what it'd be like, to be in the sway of a manipulator who I thought was my closest ally… who played on my fears enough to make me compromise myself."

She met his eyes again, bowling him over with sympathy.

"I'm so sorry for what he's done to you, love." She said heavily… but the sudden coldness dulling the warmth in her eyes brought the moment crashing down. "And I promise, I'll find a way to get rid of him for you."

"W-what?" Merlin balked, taking an involuntary step back.

"A-_ha!"_ She shouted victoriously, stomping forward to shove a finger in his chest. "See, I knew it! You _do_ think I'm a killer!"

Is that what was worrying her? That the dragon had gotten to him on some level, despite what he'd said to her in the cave? Merlin watched her, the harsh rise and fall of her chest, the livid light in her eyes hiding an irrational hurt and fear… she was so scared of losing him, and the fear was now finding reasons to justify itself.

Gently he wrapped his own rough digits around her soft one, like he had done during their argument in the forest a lifetime ago, willing his conviction, in her and in them, to reverberate through his fingertips. Her face melted in front of him, revealing the wounds he had caused beneath her shell.

"Morgana, I_ know_ you're a killer." Quickly he rushed to talk over her as she tried to pull back, shocked and angry. "B-but it's okay, alright? Because… I'm a killer too."

His wife looked at him, jaw dropped almost comically, brow furrowed in concern; he could feel her empathy coating his body like rainfall.

Merlin took a shuddering breath. It had been a long road for him to admit this, even to her… had been so easy to convince himself that it somehow didn't count if he took a life in self-defense, that he was a… _good_ person, no matter his sins.

"You _are_ a good person Merlin." She said insistently, reading his mind suddenly as easily as if he spoke. Consolingly, she crushed herself against him in a hard embrace, her touch and scent and beauty consuming him until the entire world shrunk down to her. "The best I know, and no amount of murders could change that. I'm so happy you- I mean, I was so afraid that you thought that… I was _less_ than you."

"Why would you _ever_ think that?" Merlin said against her forehead. "Nothing… there's nothing about you I don't worship, Morgana, and that includes your darker impulses. If you're a murderer, than so am I."

Desperately Morgana drew him down into a kiss, pulling him even tighter against her, and they nearly drowned in each other, in their taste, their forgiveness, and the mutual relief that they knew everything but didn't think any less of each other. For both of them… if felt like coming home.

She pulled back with a shining smile, and destroyed the moment yet again.

"So how are we going to kill Uther?"

And the fight began anew.

###

"…And what did you mean, '_next time you won't be able to stop me?'_"

It felt like they had been fighting for hours; their argument degenerating into petty rows about things neither truly cared about, before he dragged it back onto the subject her latest assassination attempt.

"Well, I think it should be obvious!" Morgana fired back across the bed they were making together, with just as much bite in her voice, as she harshly fluffed a pillow as if it were a foe to be battered. When she turned away to check the silence wards instead of continuing, Merlin made an exasperated noise she had never heard from him that made her turn back and roll her eyes. "What, do you need me to say it?"

Merlin tucked in the comforter's edges into the bed with far more force than necessary, fuming silently, and his silence gave her time to appreciate how much she loved the passion in him when they fought, the fire that only she could light, before their hard exchange began again to block out kinder thoughts.

"…Clearly, since you think I'm such a fool." He murmured angrily, and Morgana felt her jaw drop along with the pillow in her hand.

"W-when did I say _that?"_ She volleyed, suddenly more hurt than angry that he could think such a thing. Sure, she was often frustrated at his idealism, sometimes thought of it as wide-eyed naiveté , but _'fool'-?_

"You don't have to say it, Morgana." He replied tiredly, running a hand through his messy hair. "I can feel it from your magic, _right now._ You think I'm stupid to protect Uther."

Morgana used the moment of shock to attempt to close their connection, but finding it so pried open at the moment that she instantly gave up.

"I think you're _insane_ to protect Uther!" She shouted furiously, wincing at the hurt and anger she felt on the other end. "After _everything_ he's done; to you, to me, to _Gaius_-!"

She immediately slammed her mouth shut at the flare of pain the name caused in him, suddenly staring down the raw bleeding wound that she had only gotten glimpses of while she tried to coax him out of his shell by Gaius' bedside. For a moment she waited for the inevitable clamp down, saw the edges of his walls beginning to shut her out, _yet again,_ but then he seemed to realize what he was doing and fiercely clawed them back open.

They stared in uncomfortable silence for a moment, just letting each other feel one another. He quirked his eyebrow after a beat, asking permission with the gentle waves of himself lapping up against her. Asking to be shown the damage that Gaius' loss had caused, what she had been stubbornly shielding because _she had to be strong for him._

"_Not anymore, Morgana."_ His voice whispered gently to her, and his tide increased in insistency, but still not enough to swallow her.

Timidly she nodded, hating again the way he thought he had to ask ever since that _bastard_ Hengist, and dropped the rest of her guards to expose her own grief to the air. She almost winced as her husband actually stumbled as if struck, beautiful eyes wide.

"You're-you're not the only one who misses him, you know…" She muttered quietly, hugging herself like a child before him.

Merlin was across the bed before she could even register it, sweeping her into him with enough force to knock the breath out of her. Unable to resist clinging back, they fell together onto the half-made mattress, the feel of his hands in her hair the only thing keeping her from breaking down the way she couldn't let herself.

"I-I am _so_ tired of crying." She whispered finally into her crook in his neck, after what felt like hours of them just laying together in their loss. "I feel like it's all I've done since I killed those people…"

"You didn't kill them." He said firmly in her ear, and she smiled ruefully into his skin.

"Please don't lie to me again, husband. I don't think I could take it."

Morgana's words were meant only with silence, and they resumed their quiet respite in the candlelight.

It was strange to say, but she loved arguing with him. It was why she pulled him into random spats for little to no reason, ones he stubbornly refused to admit that he enjoyed. She loved to fight, she couldn't help it; she had always been a knight to her core, and that would never change. But sparring with Merlin was like nothing else, like every other trouble in the world faded away and it was just them, trading barbs over the tiniest things and trying to hide their smiles.

(Making-up with him was even better.)

But Morgana hadn't fought with him over anything serious in quite a while, and there was one stance he just would not budge on. Uther Pendragon. She still remembered the first fight they had had about him.

"_Well?" She began, more carefully this time. "Can you, or can't you?"_

_Merlin remained silent, staring at the floor._

"…_Merlin? You could, couldn't you?" Still he said nothing. "You of all people could get away with this. Make it look like an accident, no one would suspect you. This would all be over." She was aware she was pleading, and it didn't sting her pride like it normally would._

"_No." Merlin said, hoarsely but firmly. "I'm not a killer."_

"_Yes, you are." She reminded him briskly, because he was wasting time. "You said so last night." _

_Merlin winced and looked at his hands, clasped in his lap to stop them from shaking. _

"…_Low blow." He said under his breath._

Morgana's heart ached for him, for finally accepting what he wasn't, even as it filled her with relief. They were the in the same boat, as always; two people walking the line together between night and day, trying to stay balanced. She wanted him to be comfortable with himself, wanted him to know how much she loved every part of him, from the goofy servant to the alien sorcerer. If he could look at her, and tell her it was okay to be a killer and he loved her anyway, why couldn't he accept the same from her?

"If I kill him, I'll become him."

Morgana started, looking up at him in confusion. He sighed, almost nervously, and continued.

"That's what Gwen said to me, when… when her father died." The lady exhaled sharply, assaulted by memories of her part in poor Tom's death and the assassination attempt she no longer regretted. "I-I asked her what she'd do if she could take revenge on Uther, and she said that… that would make her just like him."

Merlin looked off somewhere to the side, his voice dropping to the barest whisper.

"And I'm so scared of becoming like him."

Morgana frowned. She loved Gwen to death, but the girl hadn't been through what they had, had never had to kill to save before. Gwen had never been given the power to change the course of history, and never been put in the position of having to decide whether to use it or not. Gwen still had her innocence, while Merlin's attempts at keeping his own were like holding water in his hands.

Because she knew how close he had been last week, when Uther had dared to raise a hand against her, had felt the strength of his rage as if it could crack the castle in two. It scared him, how much he loved her and the depths he could go to her for her sake... and not even shutting her out could stop that. He was never again going to be that bright boy that had wandered into Camelot last year, and she couldn't convince him that that was _perfectly alright._

"…Merlin, you once told me that there is nothing wrong with violence so as long as it's not pointed at the innocent." She said softly, her caress bringing his guilty face back to hers. "Uther is not innocent, and nor is anyone else you or I have killed. You could _never_ be like him, Merlin, no matter how violent you become, because you cherish what he threw away decades ago."

And when her hand came to rest on his racing heart, and felt it calm at her touch, she knew he'd gotten her message.

###

"Tell me of Nimueh."

Merlin's hands froze mid-lace as they helped fasten the back of her nightgown. The witching hour had long since passed, as had their dreadful fight, and they had been readying each other for bed in companionable silence. He felt utterly drained, but in the most satisfying way imaginable, as if his entire head had been emptied of all the things plaguing him. So it took him a moment to remember that she had overheard the dragon's jabs about _her_.

"Gaius… told me some things about her." Morgana continued carefully, piquing his interest. "That she was a Seer, like me, and he took her in… that that foul dragon turned him against me by playing on his fears of my becoming like her."

Merlin's head shot up to look at her face in the vanity mirror across the room, taking in his own wide-eyed expression.

"You didn't know…?" She whispered empathetically.

Merlin just shook his head against hers, because if he opened his mouth right now he didn't know what would come out. Hardly a day passed anymore where he wasn't discovering some new facet of the dragon's evil, and wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think him a friend.

"Merlin, please…" Morgana said, turning to face him and running her hands slowly up the front of his night shirt to cup his face. "I can't bear to see you shoulder this alone anymore."

His hands splayed against the thin fabric of her front, feeling goose bumps stand to attention underneath it, and buried his nose into her hair with a sigh.

_I really do need to talk about this._ Merlin relented.

"Nimueh was… Queen Ygraine's friend." He began carefully, watching her considering face. "When she couldn't get pregnant, Nimueh helped her. _Magically._"

"…_Arthur_ was conceived by magic?" His love said incredulously, as her face softened with the rapt attention of a child being told a bedtime story. "Did Uther know?"

"Oh yes, milady." He said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He hated how hard it was to be impartial when it came to the king anymore. "He knew, and he also knew that creating life required it to be taken from somewhere. Nimueh didn't know where… and she hadn't considered that Arthur would sap that life from his own mother."

Morgana gasped. "Oh no…"

Merlin nodded grimly. "Ygraine finally passed when Arthur was born, and Uther snapped. He blamed not just Nimueh, but all magic for her death, and took out his grief on the whole world."

"And this Nimueh survived the Purge?" She asked inquisitively, burying her familiar fury at the mad king with surprising ease. "Came back for revenge?"

Merlin sighed again. This was the part he didn't want to talk about.

Gently, he took her hand and guided her to the bed, feeling her follow him under the covers. She latched onto him with just as much force as always, as if he was the missing part of her body come home, and he pulled the curtains of the four-poster bed closed around them with a twitch of his fingers.

"Nimueh may as well have declared war." He said into her hair, feeling from the fluttering of her eyelashes how wide awake she still was. "You may have even seen her around the castle, posing as a handmaiden from Mercia; that was when she was trying to spark a war by framing King Bayard for poisoning Arthur."

"That stupid little-!" Morgana cut herself off before she could start ranting, pulling back enough to look at him worriedly. "That was the first time I saw you die, wasn't it?"

Images of that day, the cup, Arthur stunned, Morgana staring worriedly in his peripheral vision, Nimueh grinning somewhere in the back, before he downed the goblet and it was like someone lit a match in his throat, and all his magic couldn't help him now, and he was _falling-_

"_Stop."_ Merlin blinked his eyes open at the sound of her voice, bringing him back to Earth, to find her stony eyes filling his vision. He grimaced when he realized that the memories had trickled into her as well, and shot her an apologetic look, which she smiled sadly at.

"At least now I know why you were so adamant to save Uther from my hemlock." She replied carefully, trying to avoid another explosion because the fight about the king may have fizzled, but it had certainly not been settled.

He wondered if it would ever be.

###

"...What else did she do to you?"

Merlin started at her question, breaking out of another of his pensive moods. Morgana didn't like it when he withdrew like that; it reminded her too much of the impenetrable silence at Gauis' bedside, and she was terrified that he would go back into himself if she pushed too hard. Merlin had always required coaxing, but it had been awhile since she had needed to get something out of him.

Like, for instance, what this evil fucking _harlot_ had done to him, right under her nose.

"…Actually, the first thing she did was send the afanc to poison the well." His angry flush quickly gave way to an odd embarrassed one. "To get revenge on me for stopping it, she… manipulated me into drinking the poison.

Morgana frowned at his tone. "How?"

Merlin looked at her guiltily, something strange in his face, and all of a sudden she realized what Nimueh had done and _hit the roof_.

"_How dare_-"

"Morgana, it was before I even really knew you, it-"

"No, how dare _she!"_ Morgana snarled, aware from his hiss that she was now digging her nails painfully into his chest but was unable to care. Merlin had always been a lonely soul… and people like that were easily manipulated by those who would offer them even a moment's kindness. Even when Merlin had fallen in love with her, it had taken ages to convince him that she truly returned his feelings. Morgana had assumed he was just insecure, but _this_ was the true reason, wasn't it?

"Morgana-"

"Some crazy little tart comes swanning into _my man's_ life and-" She cut herself off with a wordless shout, because she could see it now, how vulnerable he was and how this cruel woman had used him, made him feel wanted and maybe even a little respected until he took the bait and _choked to death in front of the people he loved._

_If I could bring the bitch back to life, I'd kill her all over again, the bloody great whore-_

Abruptly her murderous thoughts were interrupted by his kiss, and she felt the rage bleed away like leaves on a windy day, until all that was left was a quiet gratitude for what they shared. When he pulled away, looking ashamed and just a bit amused, she gave him a trembling smile.

"Well, now I know why it was so hard to convince you that my feelings were genuine." Morgana whispered, running her hands through his messy bedhead lovingly. Her face sobered. "…Tell me how she died, love."

And as the night darkened and the moon passed overhead, she listened to him speak of the Questing Beast… of the deal struck with Nimueh, and finally understood why he had been so cold to her that day, when she had offered him knowledge of a future he thought wouldn't be a part of. She learned of the dragon's unholy bargain with the witch- because if those words fit anyone, it was _her_- of just why poor Hunith had suddenly appeared on the verge of death, and wept with him over his goodbyes to Arthur and Gwen, and kissed him forgivingly when he spoke of how it hurt too much to say farewell to her, the love he thought he could never had.

And when it was over, when she finally understood just how much Gaius was willing to sacrifice to keep his loved ones safe, and just how powerful her husband was; how much he hated himself for what he had done that day…

When she was left holding him in the dark, kissing away the tears, she made a new vow to go along with those she'd already given him.

_You'll never have to kill again, Merlin. Not while I'm here._

###

Gwen didn't know how to deal with this.

In the dead of night, she lay next to Arthur, savoring his hand running absent-mindedly through her unruly hair, the way her father had done for her when Elyan had teased her to the point of tears. She missed them terribly… she missed her family.

But even more, she missed Merlin and Morgana, her best friends in the world, whom she had lost tonight.

Because tonight, she had followed them down into a _dragon's den_ and seen not her friends, her siblings; but two terrifying sorcerers wearing their faces.

Gwen whimpered and buried her head further into her Arthur's loving embrace.

No, she didn't know how to deal with this at all.

###

_**Not very lifechanging at all.**_

**In case you haven't met me; hi, I'm Eidolon, and I love cliffhangers. :D**

**This chapter is dedicated to newboy, who has been scrambling for a protective!Morgana freak-out over Nimueh for ages now. I know it's not very much, but I hope it suffices. ^_^**

**So, The Fight ended up being much less "screaming fit" than initially drafted; I hope it's still alright, because I had left myself WAY too much to cover in this chapter and hopefully it's not too disjointed. At the very least it's all addressed now, and we can move on to focusing on the whole "arranged marriage" issue I keep getting distracted by. Apologies; I didn't mean to get that far off track.**

**Speaking of, I'm going to go ahead and announce that, after a bit of restructuring, we are finally nearing the endgame. Don't worry, there are still plenty of chapters of left, and knowing my decompression skills this could take **_**months.**_** Still, the end is in sight, and it will be a happy one! Of course, everything **_**before**_** it may not be. D:**

**Coming Soon: Six chapters ago I mentioned the onset of our favorite troll… and then promptly got sidetracked. I do that a lot. -_- (Sorry again, Haley~!) **

**BUT, it's here now! For real! (Hopefully!)**


	26. For Whom the Bell Tolls

The word spread quickly.

All across Camelot, peasants celebrated over the coming coronation of their new queen, the revered Lady Morgana, and over Prince Arthur's unexpected marriage announcement. Tourism exploded in the royal city, as the people came to see their future rulers and merchants of all kind came to peddle expensive wares. The busy throne room became the site of constant activity, as silk banners draped every surface and a glistening arch was being set-up in front of the thrones, for the happy couple to stand under.

(This was the fifth time it had to be assembled; some rapscallion kept setting it on fire.)

Of course, the excited people took little notice of the fact that the couple in question was very much _not_ happy. The prince and his bride maintained an uncomfortable edge as they sat together, making light conversation through forced smiles. Even fewer noticed their loving gazes were saved for the opposite sides of the room, where shifted a young man in a new red tunic, looking uncomfortable in his clothes until the lady's eyes landed on him, making him preen under her attention. The object of the prince's affection received much more worried stares, which was understandable; she looked as if she hadn't slept at all, and her eyes kept darting anxiously at the man beside her and the lady watching him.

But to the people of Camelot, their two most beloved nobles were being wed, and little else mattered. Including what they themselves wanted.

(It also helped to distract them from the king's increasingly erratic behavior… and the terrifying moments where he spoke lovingly to a spot over his shoulder.)

As dawn broke over the hills, the people awoke with jubilance to face the day. The _wedding_ day, here at last. Arthur and Morgana, happily ever after.

In their separate beds, nestled lovingly, _achingly_ in the arms of another, the fiancees awoke with a piercing dread.

Today was the beginning of the rest of their lives.

###

Morgana tried not to wince under Hunith's very Gaiusesque brow as she came sweeping into the physician's chambers where she was staying.

"Do you know what your son's done this time?" She said abruptly, prompting her dear mother-in-law to drop her spoon back into her soup and look at her with good humor.

"Don't tell me he's turned himself green, again."

Morgana bit down a laugh at the reminder of the childhood tale of Merlin the boy cabbage, fighting to return her face in its original disapproving expression. Her husband had clearly inherited his mother's ability to effortlessly break through a cool noble exterior.

She shoved her hand forward for inspection, so that Hunith could clearly see the dazzling sapphire set into a solid gold band around her index finger.

"He's made a _wedding band_, Hunith!" Morgana exhaled, cringing at how girlish she sounded in her agitation and enthusiasm. "He made it from some of my old jewelry and gave it to me this morning, saying… saying that _this_ could be what I look at when I see Arthur's ring chaining my finger… a reminder of all we have and all we're going to."

Hunith grinned stupidly at the wistful and frankly over-excited tone that had slipped into Morgana's voice towards the end, looking very much like her son at the moment. "My, how romantic. I knew I raised him right."

"_Hunith!"_ Morgana stopped short of stomping her foot. Melodramatically, she plopped down onto the bench across from her. "This isn't funny. People are going to ask where I got such a beautiful ring."

The older woman made a dismissive noise against the spoon she was raising to her lips.

"So? Make something up, dear."

"That's not the poi-" Morgana cut herself off with a heavy sigh. She wasn't angry about the ring. Actually, she was in _love_ with the ring, the symbol of their vows made more solid and extravagant than the old scarf still tied around her wrist. She wasn't even angry that she couldn't say where she got the ring and what it meant to her when prompted; at the very least, the average passerby would notice that it meant a lot to her from the way she kept unconsciously caressing it, even if they didn't understand what that meaning was. No, she was upset because…

"Merlin keeps drawing attention to himself." Morgana admitted finally, wringing her hands worriedly. "It's just little things; making this ring, leaving his clothes out in our chambers, not bothering to hide the way he looks at me… it's like he doesn't even care to keep our relationship secret anymore."

Not that she could blame him. If their positions were reversed she would be doing everything she could to stake her claim on him, and she wouldn't be nearly so subtle about it.

"Yes, my son does seem to have become even more impulsive since he married you." Hunith said impishly, drawing a receptive smile from her. "Thank you for that; I thought he was a handful before… I'm curious, my dear; why do you keep buying him things if you're trying to keep a low profile?"

Morgana felt herself flush with an odd mix of pride and embarrassment. So she had had noticed the new tunics Merlin was easing himself into; she seemed to be one of the few. The same people who had been so taken with him that they didn't even recognize him as Arthur's manservant were now too busy fluttering around she and her foster brother like carrion flies. Arthur had reacted with surprise, followed by laughter and a backhanded compliment that had nearly gotten his head chopped off by her.

Gwen had paled when she saw him and ducked her head, leaving the room as fast as she could. The jealous streak in Morgana hoped she wasn't reigniting old affections in Gwen; she was looking at him lately as if he were a completely different person!

"I-I like buying him things." She admitted under her breath, feeling rather childish under Hunith's amused smile. It almost made her snap at her; because there was nothing wrong with taking pleasure with providing for the one you love, especially when what you provide them makes them look even more attractive. (_Alright, maybe that has a lot to do with it…)_

"Besides, aren't you the one who hasn't kicked him out of your rooms, yet?" Hunith continued, deftly dropping the subject Morgana was skirting around.

"_Our_ rooms, Hunith. I can't make him leave his home." Morgana said forcefully, bristling despite herself. She cast her gaze down at the table as she continued sadly. "And I can't sleep without him there, either…"

Hunith softened, giving her that strangely admiring glance that she kept throwing her since she had returned to Camelot. Like she was so damn grateful for what she had given Merlin, as if _she_ had saved _him_ and not the other way around, as if she didn't cause him more pain than happiness these days. Morgana almost shook her head; if only Hunith knew who she was, what she had done, what she still wanted to do…

"I don't know what to do, Hunith." She admitted finally, looking back down at the finger where Arthur's ring would soon be.

Her mother-in-law reached out a rough hand to take her own comfortingly, her thumb brushing against her wedding ring. The one Arthur slid onto her finger would be a cancer, feeding off her finger every time she saw it. And Merlin had been right; now, she would bypass that horrid band and see only _their_ ring on her digit. She felt an involuntary shiver at how well her husband knew her, to do something for her as tiny and yet huge as this.

And yet, they still couldn't have a discussion about Uther Pendragon without it devolving into a fight. And she was _so_ tired of fighting with him.

She didn't even know what had triggered it. One second he was on his knees sliding his ring onto her finger, the next they were yelling at each other. Looking back, she _had_ made a comment about how she'd be able to wear it on her ring finger where it belonged if not for Uther. One thing had led to another and…

"_Don't you ever get tired of having to _hide_ all the time?"_

"_Of course I do! But getting rid of Uther won't change anything!"_

"_Why in God's name would you think that?"_

"_Oh, what happened to 'Uther's just the head of a monster?' What happened to 'there'll be others to take up his cause?'"_

"_Even if somebody else tries to become the next Uther, Arthur will have the throne! He makes the decisions, and whatever he is I don't think he's capable of killing the way his father does."_

"…_So what, you're going to kill Uther to save us? Morgana, taking a life to save a life... it's not right."_

"_Yes, we both know how much trouble you have with that concept, Merlin."_

Morgana swallowed harshly and darted a glance at Merlin's old room, where Gaius lay, still and silent. She hadn't meant to bring him up, had stuttered out apologies when she'd seen Merlin's face slack and his feet carry him out the door. The wedding day had brought both of them to their boiling point, and as usual they had a way of setting each other off.

And yet, a part of her still resented the man she loved, and his stubborn refusal to use his miraculous power over life and death to extinguish their biggest obstacle and save Gaius before his old heart gave out. At least before he had been in denial about his capacity to kill; now he just openly refused to do what he knew he could. It was infuriating.

"I must say, I'm still not entirely clear on why you're going through with this." Hunith's idle voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"S-sorry?" She heard herself say dumbly.

"Marrying another man, Morgana."

"It will keep Merlin and Gwen safe." The lady spewed the familiar justification as easily as if she was telling herself again, eyes hard with determination. "As long as Uther's alive he'll want to protect me from 'threats' like your son, and if we ran he would tear this country apart looking for us. No, this is the best way. He'll be dead soon enough, and we'll all be free."

Hunith opened her mouth to say something and then shut it, simply staring at her with big, worried eyes. There really wasn't much to say to that, was there? She and Arthur had already had long talks about this; about how difficult it would be to pull off, about how much danger they were putting Merlin and Gwen under just because they loved them. If there was one thing Merlin had taught her, it was that love wasn't something you tell someone, it was something you show them. Something you live.

If hurting Merlin like this, if denying his claim on her heart to the public, was the only way to keep him safe, than she would do it without a second thought. There was no other way.

_Well, actually…_

Morgana stiffened at the thought. The truth was, the best way to love Merlin would be to kill Uther right now, before he made her worst nightmare come true. But she wasn't yet powerful enough to do it herself without arousing suspicion, and Merlin had taught her a cautiousness she had lacked before, so doing something as bold as hiring more assassins was out of the question. Honestly, it was Merlin who stood the best chance of ending Uther's madness and all their problems, but she had seen how _choosing_ to kill Nimueh had eaten him alive; sworn an oath that he would never have to take another life when she could do it for him. For in her mind, he was her lord and she his champion; she would fight his battles, and take on his burdens, before they could break him.

If she was so resigned to it, then why did it all hurt so much?

"Oh, darling…" Hunith was muttering, suddenly beside her and pulling her into a motherly hug, like she hadn't had in years. That was when the tears came; when she realized how much she had grown to appreciate Merlin's wonderful mother, and how grateful she was for her presence.

"I don't want to do this…" She whispered into the older woman's chest. "Not any of it."

"Not any of what, Morgana?" Hunith crooned kindly, coaxing out her worries with the expert touch of a parent. Her arms tightened reflexively around her.

"Camelot." Morgana growled, because somewhere along the way the cobblestone spires had become hell on earth, a cruel mockery of home keeping her and her family in constant fear for their lives. It had been that way for even longer than she had known Merlin, and she hadn't even realized it until she had been free with him for that one blissful week after their wedding- her _true_ wedding.

If she was honest, she wished she had never let him talk her into going back to Uther's kingdom.

"I want to go back to the forest with him… I want us to be _free,_ Hunith."

They were silent for a moment, the two of them, Hunith stroking her hair empathetically while Morgana fought to reign herself back in. Finally, she pulled away, brushing her running mascara off her face.

"But it cannot be, and I have a wedding to attend to." Morgana said with a false confidence, slipping back on the armor that kept her moving under Uther's thumb. "Oh, I'm so sorry Hunith; here I've gone and ruined your frock!"

"Don't be silly, child." The wonderful woman said, waving off the large wet spot on the front of her threadbare dress. "If you want my advice… I think you should go back to that forest of yours."

Morgana froze halfway to standing, darting an incredulous look at her. Was she actually suggest she leave Merlin? Hunith began to rush over herself to clarify, in that adorable way Merlin did when his mouth outpaced his brain.

"Only for a ride, I mean!" She said hastily. "It's not too far out of town, right? You could be back long before anyone knows you're missing. It might help ground you for what you're about to do… or remind you of what the two of you had, and what you're going to have."

Morgana's eyes landed back down on her husband's ring, sparkling deep blue like his eyes under the afternoon sun, and she felt a shot of warmth flood her again. Perhaps it _was_ time to remind herself where they had come from, and why she was doing this.

###

Gwen had been doing a very good job of avoiding the last two people in the world she wanted to see, when one of them cornered her in the laundry pool.

"Hi, Gwen! Have- um- have you seen my wife anywhere?"

She nearly jumped when she spotted him ambling in, and with a chuckle he caught the folded dresses that had flown from her hands and held them out to her, the picture of helpfulness.

Anyone who met Merlin would laugh if she told them that he was a sorcerer.

The light hit him strangely through the windows, playing odd shadows with his sharp cheekbones and doofy grin, and she couldn't decide if he looked suddenly handsome or suddenly terrifying. All she knew was that he was not anything close to what he presented, and that made her wonder just how much of him was a lie after all.

Gwen had been debating with herself since those frantic minutes in the back of the cave, listening to passionate voices talk of magic and destiny and _murder_; Merlin had _killed_ a woman and _brought Gaius back to life_, what kind of being could do something like that? Who was he, to scold a _raging dragon_ into submission, to command it the way that her father had sent Elyan to his room when he had teased her too much?

And Morgana had been there too; actually telling him what he had done was _okay._ Fighting over that little boy, who Merlin had been planning on letting _die,_ and needing reassurances from her husband that the monster's insistence that she, 'the witch', was not going to help him kill her Arthur and burn Camelot to the ground.

Merlin looked at her sardonically, wondering why she was spacing off; as if he hadn't stared down the Great Dragon, as if he was nothing more than Arthur's loveable servant. And that was what hit her worst of all; this entire time, Arthur thought he had finally found a friend who would treat him like an equal, and he was a _sorcerer_. He couldn't be Arthur's friend… could he?

_My father trusted a sorcerer, and look what happened to him._

"Gwen, are you alright?"

Merlin's dulcet tones broke her from her near-panic attack, suddenly much closer to her, emanating worry and just a bit of understanding, presumably thinking that it was the wedding today that had her so afraid. Not that the thought of the love of her life marrying her best friend, a fiercely beautiful noblewoman who loved swordplay and tournaments and politics and was his equal in all the ways she wasn't, didn't stab at her very core.

No, it just seemed trivial compared to her entire world being turned upside down, and she desperately wanted to find Arthur and just finally tell him, to shout it from the rooftops until he came running to her…

"Hey," Merlin whispered, tucking the dresses under one arm to put a comforting hand on her elbow. His light touch seemed to carry a thousand different bolstering words, a softness in him for her that was only surpassed by her Arthur's. She was reminded, suddenly, why she had crushed so hard on him initially, before she had learned that the bully prince was everything she thought she had loved about Merlin and more. "Gwen, we're going to get through this. Whatever the world thinks… they're still coming home to us, right?"

"Y-yes…" She said weakly, staring up at him wide-eyed. He gave her a slow, soothing nod, like all was right in the world, and she knew now exactly why she couldn't get the words out whenever she tried to tell Arthur.

It was _Merlin and Morgana._ Next to Arthur, no one had done more for her. She owed them her very life; her very happiness, even, because she would not be the woman Arthur loved if not for their care and friendship. Morgana had stopped her just before going after Merlin and the dragon, and told her that no matter what, she loved her, that they were _sisters_ beyond blood; and here Merlin was, doing anything for anyone, because he was never happy unless everyone else was.

_Arthur might kill you!_ She wanted to shout at his understanding smile. _You might still be who you've always been, and he could _kill_ you both!_

"So you haven't seen Morgana?" Merlin continued worriedly, as he tried offering her the laundry again. Self-consciously, she took it this time, and aimed for a smile as she shook her head. "Ah, damn. We got… well I _started_ a fight this morning and… I don't think she should be alone today, do you?"

Merlin was such a caring person, it seemed. But if that was a lie too… then Arthur in danger.

"Definitely not." Gwen said finally, and Merlin thanked her and sped off at top speed, to find his errant wife. And Gwen watched her tears drop to the ground along with the dresses, as she made her decision.

If she kept Arthur in the dark, they could hurt him. If she told Arthur, he could hurt them.

It came down to a choice between the man she loved and her best friends, and that was no choice at all.

###

It hadn't taken much to slip past the guard; though Morgana didn't have Merlin's raw power, she was quickly growing into her own and the simple spells to make one unnoticeable that they had discovered in the margins of their spell book made it quite a trivial manner. Soon she was galloping over the hills, clad only in the mensclothes Camelot would never allow, reveling in the wind in her hair and the smell of the leaves above her.

The woodland air tasted like home on her tongue, and she suddenly wished she had brought Merlin along to share this with her. But then again, she needed some time away from him, and the ceremony looming over her head.

She had only been riding an hour when she passed a little river, where they had stopped to bath and ended up staying for far, _far_ longer than it took to get each other clean. A salacious grin lit her face as she brought her mare to a trot next to it, her eyes alighting on an out-of-place crater on the shore that had filled with river water. Like yesterday she remembered it, her arms and legs in a vice-grip around him, her new husband filling her body and her soul, as their power erupted madly around them and changed the very landscape. And the way he had let her take the lead in their dance with that gentle smile, so that piece by careful piece she could put back together what Hengist had tried to break inside of her.

But most of all, she remembered the long hours they had just laid there, wet and sated, counting the stars or swapping ridiculous tales or even just gazing at each other, memorizing every detail of their bodies.

Though she had been delighted to see Arthur and Gwen, Gaius and Hunith, and even for a moment Uther himself… Camelot had brought nothing but misery.

_This_ was where she had last been truly happy.

_CRACK!_

The sound of that downed branch breaking warned her just in time to dive off her horse, rolling onto the sand as a white-hot ball of fire passed over the saddle where she had been. As it made a panicked neighing and galloped off into the brush, Morgana drew the rusted and reliable old sword Merlin had gifted her- "_It was Lancelot's… it won't fail you, love."_- and pointed it in the direction of the fireball.

"Who goes there?" She shouted as commandingly as possible, which according to Merlin was very.

An ominous snort, rather like a boar, came from out of the brush, followed by the foulest smell she had ever come across. A hulking shape was stomping out of the trees, its massive shadow consuming her, wide-eyed and stunned, beneath it.

"Urgh, look at you." The beast said, nibbling absent-mindedly on what appeared to be a rotting wolf's legs. "All sort of… _clean_, and symmetrical. Don't fancy being such an ugly little human for a while, do I?"

Morgana forced her slackened jaw closed, and fought past the stench to put on her most intimidating face.

"Exactly _what_ are you?" She spat, touching the tip of the sword to the rags covering the creature's bulk. "I'm warning you, I've taken down worse."

Alright, so that was a lie, but this thing didn't need to know that.

It guffawed at her, tearing off another piece of dead maggoty flesh from the leg in its hand, and then shouted into the woods.

"OY, JONAS, NOW!"

Morgana didn't have much time to react when she heard the rustle of a lithe shape moving quickly towards her from behind. Ducking, she spun and swung her sword at the legs of what she now saw was a human-looking thing in a dark cloak, rushing her with a dagger. Her smug grin, prompted by his obvious inability to dodge her attack, melted off her face when what looked like a _tail_ flicked out from under his robe and knocked her sword away. Narrowly she managed to twist out of the way of the man-thing's stab, but from behind her the woman-thing suddenly had her by the neck, squeezing so hard that all the air in her lungs fled her immediately.

"Been waitin' for somebody important to the wedding to come wandering out here, haven't we, Jonas?" It said viciously, lifting her up off the ground with one hand. "Didn't think we'd get the blushing bride herself, did we?"

"No, mistress." The thing called Jonas murmured sycophantically, sauntering over to her with a dark gleam in his huge eyes. "Shall I; oh please, shall I?"

Morgana struggled uselessly with the fat fingers around her neck, barely able to keep her sword in hand much less lift it. She could feel her eyes try to flash with impotent magic, her abilities short-circuiting under her distress as her heart pumped uselessly without breath. They were going to kill her, she realized; she would _die_ here in her happiest place; and Merlin would probably never know.

"Ah, you're a good servant; you go right ahead!" It said sickeningly, and Jonas made a delighted sound. She caught a flash of silver and he lunged, aiming for her face. Bracing herself, she called up every bit of strength she had left in herself.

"GET! OFF!"

The shout was followed by an explosion of force all around her, searing the ground under them and sending both of her assailants tumbling away from her. While the beast struggled to roll over, like a great turtle, Morgana ignored the screaming pain in her throat and dove at where the nimble one lay on the ground. With a despicable squeak he threw up a hand and tried to send her flying; Morgana grunted and deflected the blast with her own, recklessly plunging through the resulting whirlwind just in time to cleave his head off with a single good swing.

Down the creature went, the thing trying to ruin her memories of this place with Merlin, trying to take her away from him and leave him alone and devastated and _unprotected._ Morgana saw red, furiously kicking the corpse onto its stomach. _Stupid thing._

And suddenly the dagger Jonas had dropped was embedded in her back, not quite reaching the bone.

Morgana threw open her mouth in a silent scream.

"Ugly girl." It snarled behind her, pulling the dagger out with enough force to draw a real scream from her. "Slaying my minion; I _liked_ him, ya know, do you have any idea how rare that is for me?"

Morgana collapsed to her hands and knees, gasping with the effort of staying upright; she had to live, she had to live for him-

A leg hit her like a tree trunk, and with a howl she was sent rolling into the cold river. Desperately she fought to stay afloat, amongst limbs that would not listen and an open wound yelling in her ear; she saw her killer waving sarcastically from the shore, holding the bloodied dagger like a prize.

"Your life's mine now, ugly girl!" It shouted as it moved to leave. "Your life, and everybody you know!"

The horrid laughter trailed off into the brush as she finally made it back to shore, her gasping for breath that would not come the only sound in a deadly quiet forest. Stray leaves fell from above onto wet hair as Morgana reached out blindly, trying to find his hand… they were laying together in their little crater by the river, weren't they? Where was he? Where was her husband?

The sun split inside the jewel of her ring, lit on her face like a blue dawn, and she remembered where he was. Remembered the last time they had spoken, the last thing he would think of when he thought of her. Morgana's mouth opened in a silent cry for him, and the world began to blacken.

_I need you._ She whispered.

As her heart slowed and her vision dimmed, she saw a figure begin to approach, and a flash of wild blond hair.

_I'm here, sister._

###

**Hurray, things are happening again!**

**Oh, did you think trolltime meant there would just be funny shenanigans? Not a chance. (Sorry x3, Haley~!)**

**So, I'm gonna go ahead and say that, currently, there will probably be around 8 chapters left. Of course that's a ballpark number that can and probably will change- this is **_**me**_** we're talking about here- but please remember that we are very close to the end… and Morgana's dream.**

**Coming Up: Morgause's story time, the worst wedding **_**ever**_**, and troll!Morgana. Oh yeah, it's happening.**


	27. Her Hollow Smile

Merlin had become quite adept at reading his wife's cold shoulders.

In their (relatively) short time together, he'd become privy to many of them. There was the 'not even dignifying that with a response' dismissal, the 'why isn't Uther dead yet?' silent treatment, and of course those times when he could read 'stay on your side of the bed until you agree with me' written on her naked back. (She could never keep that one up for _too_ long.)

So it was safe to say that he knew what she was trying to say with her silences very well, rarely even needed to use their mingling magic to learn what was troubling her. Which is why he was baffled when the love of his life, his one and only, had swanned past him earlier without a single glance. Or a single thought of a glance.

"I'm telling you, something's wrong with her." Merlin insisted, working hard to not yell in frustration as his shaky fingers tried to unclasp the armor Arthur had worn to lead Morgana's search party. Arthur spared him a sympathetic look over his shoulder; Merlin had to admit that he was still getting used to his best friend's unguarded expressions around him.

"It's probably just cold feet making her head spin, Merlin." He said, his false briskness hiding a gentle reminder of what this day meant; as if he needed reminding. It was all Merlin could think about, really, at least up until his wife had vanished for a few hours and returned acting as if he didn't exist. He pouted rather childishly and chewed the inside of his cheek.

"…And what did you say she looked like when you found her?" He said anxiously, desperate for more information on what had happened in-between this morning and now.

Arthur groaned and watched himself roll his eyes at the mirror. "I told you, she was walking cheerfully down the road in rags; said she'd been mugged while out for that ride and lost her clothes in the fight." He chuckled wryly. "She was quite smug about her little victory, too."

Merlin felt Arthur's body question the way his hands froze above the final clasp, but he was too preoccupied with a sudden realization. Morgana had lost her clothes in an attack? Had she been… had someone tried to do again what Hengist had done? Would that explain why she was so distant?

…_Except she's not distant to Arthur._ He reminded himself harshly as he lifted Arthur's breastplate over his head for him. Returning home to the jubilant crowd- word had already spread of the bride-to-be's disappearance- Morgana had been radiant and… handsy. Arthur had been stock-still with discomfort at the way she was pressed into his side almost demurely, and had actually pushed her away the moment he had seen whatever expression Merlin had been wearing. He couldn't remember what he'd looked like exactly, he was too livid at sight before him.

Morgana had taken Arthur's hand, thwarted his attempts to dislodge her fingers, and followed him up the steps into the castle with an overjoyed and almost hammy wave to the people. And the whole time, he couldn't read any awareness of him being there at all.

Arthur's hands on his shoulders snapped him out of the painful memory, making him realize that the prince had finished removing his armor himself and was facing him now with a compassionate grimace. "Ah… did you two have a fight?"

"…A bit of one, yeah." Merlin said awkwardly; it sometimes annoyed him how determined Arthur was to show his friendship now that he had openly declared it, if only because it was a little reminiscent of Morgana's forceful pursuit of him, and the comparison was just… _ewww_. Then again, he supposed that was just the nobility's odd way of showing affection.

"Er, what about?" Arthur shut his eyes and made a sound as if wanting to slap himself, clearly realizing what a stupid question that was. But though obviously there shouldn't have been anything else for them to row about on her accursed wedding day, Arthur was wrong in thinking they had fought over him. Not that Merlin could tell him that their argument had been about whether or not to assassinate his father.

Merlin broke away and went over to the cupboard where Arthur kept his armor these days, carefully fitting the individual pieces on their racks. "Something we've been butting heads over for a while now." He said over his shoulder, hoping Arthur would take the hint and not press. "Honestly, I think we're both just tired of talking about it."

Arthur was silent for a moment behind him; he saw in the reflection of his hauberk the prince shifting awkwardly, and couldn't help but smile at how young the king-to-be could look when he wanted to.

"Perhaps she's trying to teach you a lesson, then?" He said, making a face as if he had bit into a lemon. Merlin felt the ugly jealousy he couldn't help but feel abate at the obvious distress and even anger that his friend felt over Morgana's… advances. His tone was one of a man desperately trying to make sense of something nonsensical; he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the idea that Morgana would try to do this to the man she loved.

_Come to think of it, neither can I._ Merlin thought sourly, as he made a noncommittal sound and returned to Arthur's side with his folded cape, the prince's crown lying gently on its surface. To be honest with himself; even in the face of his own insecurity, his worry that she had just gotten fed up with him after his boldness with the ring and his tenacity on the subject of Uther, he couldn't convince his heart or his mind that she would do this.

No, something was terribly wrong with his wife. And there was no time to find out what.

"I can't believe it's happening, just like this." Arthur said under his breath, after a long moment staring down at the crown like it was a monster waiting to eat him. After crushing Morgana into a tearful hug in front of the entire court, Uther had proclaimed the immediate beginning of the ceremony. And Morgana had almost jumped up and down in her own excitement, agreeing immediately and shooting a wide doe-eyed expression he had never seen before at Arthur. It looked like she was _trying_ to look like she was in love with him… and when Merlin allowed himself to examine that hurtful thought, he realized there was something else there in her eyes too. It was a terrible kind of _want,_ which seemed beyond romantic or even sexual desire; it was as if she wanted to eat him whole.

Arthur had shivered along with him under her gaze.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur was saying now, looking at him from under his fringe with almost timorous eyes. The guilt in them buried any frustrated resentment Merlin had felt almost immediately, made him remember that Arthur had his own love he was losing today. "For all of this. I didn't want… I wanted us all to be happy. You and Morgana, myself and…"

Merlin swallowed heavily as he moved to help him attach the grand red cape, understanding why he couldn't say his lover's name. He knew there was something stuck firmly between Gwen and Arthur now, a wall he was desperate to tear down and she was determined to keep up. He could only presume it was worry like his own over the state of the marriage, but hoped they could find their way back to each other once this charade was over and done with. Gwen had seemed about to burst at the seams when the warlock had spoken to her earlier; no matter how many times he approached her, the easy friendship between them seemed to have hit its own roadblock as well.

Merlin felt rather sad about that; he had thought the only upside about this whole thing was having Gwen in his corner.

"But it's not meant to be." Arthur said wistfully, fitting the crown onto his head with that strange princely reverence that he always regarded it with. Merlin rather thought his shoulders dropped with an unbearable weight; felt the old impulse to fight Arthur's fatalistic streak rear its head, especially when he heard his next words as he went to retrieve his sword.

"You have no idea what it's like, Merlin," Arthur was saying, almost despondently. "To have a… _destiny,_ that you can't escape."

Inexplicably, Merlin found himself almost laughing, the sword in his hands shaking with his silent mirth, and he was suddenly very giddy at the turn of the conversation. He had firmly done away with the idea of pre-destination, after the dragon's attempt to use it to turn him against the woman he loved… but he couldn't deny still being affected by it. Especially when he was married to a Seer; sometimes, the thought of his future death felt like wire around his throat… and for all his fervent promises, he wondered how he could really escape it.

"Destiny is a… tricky thing." Merlin began carefully at Arthur's back, slipping on his burgeoning role as advisor, feeling slight pangs as he tried his best to imagine what Gaius would say. "It feels like your whole life is planned out for you, and you don't have any control over… _anything;_ not even who to spend your life with."

Arthur was giving him _that_ look now; as if he could see right through his walls, as if he knew everything and could barely believe what he was seeing.

"…What do _you_ know about destiny?" He said incredulously.

"Hmm?" Merlin replied innocently. "Oh, I read a book."

Arthur almost snorted in his rush to clamp down on his laughter. Merlin grinned, and handed the sword to him with a flourish he didn't truly feel.

"I know why you have to do this," He began carefully, holding Arthur's gaze and feeling again rather like Gaius beginning a lecture. "And why you don't think the four of us are meant to be; not right now, anyway. But one day, when you're king, it will be _you_ who decides what our destiny is."

Merlin stood back to admire the sight of Prince Arthur, dressed in full former wear, looking somehow small under his crown. For a moment they simply stared at each other, basking in that old camaraderie that had bonded them from day one, before Arthur gave a sharp nod.

"You don't have to be there." He said worriedly as they marched out the door in synch.

Merlin smiled with good humor. "Of course I do, you prat."

He had to be there to find out who exactly Arthur was about to marry. Because the more he thought about it, the more he was certain that it wasn't Morgana who would be waiting at the end of that aisle.

###

"Ah, are you alright?"

Gwen's snapped her head up from where they had been examining the alcoves in the corridor, and found her eyes trapped by empty gray-green eyes affecting concern.

"Y-yes, milady?" She asked precariously, aware of the other handmaidens escorting Morgana to the wedding giving her shifty looks. (Far be it for her to hold up the most celebrated event in recent history.) It took her a moment of being stared at to realize that she had been shaking since leaving Morgana's chambers, blown over by the sudden change in her oldest friend. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I'm just… would you mind if I made a detour? Only, there's something I need…"

Her feeble excuse to give her a chance to find her Arthur crumbled under Morgana's shrewd look. A moment passed where she swore everyone there could hear her heart beating out of her chest, before the bride to be turned in her luminescent white silk dress and shooed the remaining handmaidens off to tend to the wedding.

Gwen didn't open her mouth; didn't trust herself not to yell for help now that she was suddenly alone again with her so-called sister. But since Morgana returned from her ride, since Gwen and twelve others had spent an hour in her 'pleasant company', there had been something desperately wrong with her. It was in the tilt of her head, the edge of her smile, the way she held herself as if fighting just to stand up straight. She patronized the maids in a way she never had before, seemed to eat her exquisite brunch with great reluctance, and avoided using Gwen's name as if she couldn't remember it.

Also, she refused to stop smirking. It was rather obnoxious.

"And what exactly do you need, my dear?" Morgana was saying with simpering sweetness, trying and failing to pull the edge of her lips down out of their sneer.

"Ah, I, um…" Gwen darted her eyes around, away from that terrible stare, trying not to say the reason that was leaping to the forefront of her mind. _Arthur._

"I know I've been rather demanding," Morgana continued, the barest twinge of bite in her voice. "But I'd hate for you to run out on me now. It's a _big day,_ after all."

Her smile turned almost vicious, with a clear message; _You're not going anywhere._

Gwen seized up. This was it, wasn't it? After all this time, this was what her best friend had become, what magic had done to her. Was a smile like that lurking under Merlin's face too, waiting for the right moment to spring? How long had they been toying with them- with her and Arthur?

_Arthur-_ she needed him. Oh, she needed him.

And, as if on cue-

"_Morgana,_ why aren't you at the aisle yet?"

With an involuntary yelp, Gwen turned to hear the familiar voice; Arthur had stridden into the hallway, looking resplendent in regal cape and crown, and she felt her terror evaporate the moment their eyes locked. Before she could even stop herself, she was throwing her arms around him right then and there.

"Guinevere…?" He whispered in her ear, half consoling and half confused. She only held him tighter, savoring again the solid feel of him; he hadn't deserved to be left out in the cold by her. She couldn't believe it had taken her this long to just _tell him,_ and now, it might be too late…

"Arthur, I-"

"Oy, hands off the merchandise!"

Gwen would probably be more embarrassed by her second successive yelp in minutes were she not so shocked by slender hand _pulling her off_ her love by the back of her frock.

"What- _unhand her!"_ Arthur yelled, striding forward threateningly. Morgana released with her an innocent look and an embarrassed grimace, seemingly surprised at herself. Gwen gave Arthur a cursory nod under his eye to show she was alright, nearly jumping in surprise when she finally noticed Merlin standing in Arthur's shadow, watching the proceedings with a dark look on his face. He looked… _sinister._

"Oh, I'm so sorry, _dear,_" Morgana simpered, and Gwen had the sudden urge to slug her like her father had taught her. "I'm suppose I'm just feeling a little… _possessive._"

There was a horrible hunger that didn't belong in Morgana's eyes.

"Where's your ring?"

The three of them turned in time towards Merlin, stepping forward finally with an almost confrontational air. She and Arthur shared a look; he had never seen his manservant like this… and she didn't know how to tell him that this was the barest tip of the iceberg when it came to the _real_ Merlin.

Morgana looked at him as if he were any other servant, "Well, we're hardly married yet, boy."

Arthur sucked in a breath beside her, while Gwen threw 'her lady' a horrified look at her dismissive tone. Suddenly, she wondered if Morgana had only been using Merlin this entire time… waiting till a bigger catch was made available. When she looked to Merlin, expecting to see undisguised hurt, she only saw cold rage.

"I meant the ring that _I_ gave you this morning." He almost growled.

Morgana just looked at him uncomprehendingly. "You shouldn't make jokes about your betters, dogsbody."

In a flash Arthur's sword was out. "Who are you?"

Morgana tried to stifle a grunt of fear, one which almost sounded like a hog's whine. It would be funny if it was so terrifying.

"N-now dearest, let's not be rash," Morgana stuttered as the swordtip slid to a rest just under her chin. "I-it's only me! _Morgana,_ you dolt, your fiancée!"

"My wife doesn't smirk like that." Merlin pointed out calmly at Arthur's side.

"I- I am _not_ smirking!" She shot back, fighting another battle with her lips to turn her expression into something less obviously malicious. "Wait… _wife?"_

"Mmm, that's right." Arthur said with an alluring twist of his own lips, beginning to put the pieces together. "You're already married, I'm afraid. This entire ceremony is already null and void in the eyes of the law. So, whoever you are; if you were thinking about inheriting something upon my untimely demise… "

"_I would never- _how dare-?"

"Tell me who you are!" Merlin shouted venomously, and Gwen reflexively recoiled at the sight of him, looking suddenly as he had when he had browbeaten a dragon into submission. He looked like he was about to explode, like he was the butcher and they were the lambs, and she wasn't sure she had ever seen anything more _wrong_ in her life.

"I'm Morgana, you idiot!" She shouted back.

"You are _not_ the woman I love-"

"Psssh, what? You thought I wouldn't get tired of you?" Morgana said with another cruel flash of her teeth, her eyelashes fluttering as she savored the raised brows all around her. "Come on, _look at yourself;_ now look at me. If I ever took you to bed, it was only because I was _bored._"

"Don't you dare!" Arthur yelled now, incensed at the attack on the honor of the man he _thought _was his best friend's honor. Morgana squeaked- actually _squeaked-_ and withered pathetically, desperately, under his glare.

"Arthur, p-please listen to me; I-I'm so _confused."_ Morgana pleaded. "Something happened to me out in the woods… I can't think straight…"

Arthur and Merlin shared another look; Merlin shook his head imperceptibly.

"I remember now, t-there was a sorcerer! He did something to me… Oh, I was _so scared!_"

Arthur's eyes were softening under her imploring eyes, the vulnerability spilling off of her like water, and Gwen felt her own fury rising. No doubt he was remembering the last time she had been 'enchanted' by that crazed old man; as if she hadn't been working with him the whole time. So she was playing the _magic _card, was she…?

"_Please…_ help me…" Morgana whispered down his weapon.

And to Gwen's shock, the sword began to lower.

"Arthur no- _they're sorcerers!"_

The shock was enough to get all eyes on her; she barely had a moment to recognize the horror in Arthur's eyes as he saw the earnest truth in hers, before Morgana let out a horrendous scream that sent she and Merlin flying across the corridor.

They crashed unceremoniously against the wall, hearing Arthur's sword clattering uselessly on the ground after being thrown out of his hands. She landed atop Merlin, who scrambled to try to get his hands free from her dress, pointing them in Arthur's general direction-

"No!" She heard herself yell, trying to trap his arms under her before he could cast whatever foul spell he was trying to cast.

"Dammit Gwen, it's a _protection_ sp-"

They were interrupted by the sound of Arthur screaming.

Gwen watched, openmouthed in horror, as Morgana pulled tight a withered old necklace around his throat as if to strangle him, the gem at the base of it shining blood red as Arthur howled against it. It began just as it ended, as guards flooded the hallway drawn by his cries, but her Arthur was too busy staring into his attacker's eyes with a look she had only ever seen directed at herself before.

"…Better?" Morgana said darkly.

"_Much."_ He grinned, and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

Gwen could barely hear the shuffling of Merlin forcing them to their feet, over the sound of her heart cracking in half.

When they finally (mercifully) pulled away from each other, Arthur turned to look at them as if he'd never seen them before.

"Guards!" He barked, the image of his father. "Arrest these two, for conspiracy to harm my bride!"

Gwen could only stare despondently at his beautiful face behind the advancing patrol, his expression a twisted mockery of himself, before she felt Merlin take her hand.

"_Run."_ He whispered urgently into the shell of her ear. She turned to look at him tearfully. "_RUN, GWEN!"_

She did.

And as they sprinted hand-in-hand away from the wall of men behind them, she shut her eyes and tried to block out the peals of Arthur and Morgana's laughter.

###

_On its axis, destiny had tilted._

_The throne room was now in shambles, as if a battle had been fought. Gaius and Uther were gone entirely from the dream, as were the guards, and Gwen now sat on the crumbling floor, sobbing into the chest of the corpse she held in her arms. The corpse of Arthur Pendragon._

_Merlin spat blood from cracked lips, trying to fight to his feet before collapsing back to his knees with a groan. A pairs of expensive heels clicked up to him, and his glare rose to meet…_

_Morgana's own face stared down at him, smirking triumphantly. She heaved up the executioner's axe with inhuman strength, readying it…_

"_Just so you know, she probably never loved you." The imposter said in an uncouth brogue that was all too familiar. "Ah, come on, look at you! How long did you really think she'd stay with you?"_

_Merlin grinned, defiantly cheerful._

"_Forever."_

_And the ax came down._

Morgana awoke screaming.

_Nonononono-!_

She scrambled away from the red silk sheets, convinced they were blood, convinced she was laying in _Merlin's blood_, and there was somebody else now running soothing hands over her face, begging her to come back-

The dream's afterglow lifted, and she was left facing unfathomable dark eyes framed by golden waves.

"Hello, sister." The woman said with a relieved smile. Morgana pulled back hard against the headboard, trying to get as far away from this strange woman as she could, and cradled the burgundy covers to her chest as if they were chainmail.

"Who-who are you?" She demanded shakily. The woman sighed, and to her surprise pulled a tankard of water across the unfamiliar bedroom with a single motion, offering it to her generously.

_Oh God, I've had been kidnapped by a sorceress._

When she didn't move, much less accept the offering, the woman relented.

"My name is Morgause," she began calmly. "I am the bastard daughter of Uther Pendragon and the Lady Vivianne, wife of Gorlois… and so are you."

Morgana felt her grip on the blanket slacken with her shock.

"…_What?"_

"What I'm trying to say, Morgana," Morgause sighed. "Is that you and I are second in line for the throne, after our brother. And I would like your help in _taking it."_

###

**I hate set-up chapters. Hate them.**

**Agh, not happy with this one. Not gonna lie, I rewrote it a million times in a million ways, but each one was worse than the last. Not feeling this one. But it needed to be done and gotten out of the way, so I've just gotta hope it's acceptable and move on to the more exciting parts. Meh, maybe it's just that whole "own worst critic" thing, I dunno. What I'm trying to say is that I'm really sorry if things feel off, because this installment just refused to click with me. Worse case, I hope I can try to make it up to y'all later. :(**

**Coming Up: The Merwen Detective Agency reforms to figure out a way to save Arthur, while Morgana struggles to deal with a new destiny and a new family.**


	28. This Twisted Family Tree

When she was little, Morgana fantasized about having a sister.

The little girl lived a charmed life in her father's castle as Cornwall, but it was a lonely one. For all her parents love, there was no one else her age in the castle; at least, none she could play with. The peasant children were intimidated by her; stared or blushed or even ran when she demanded to be included in their games. Left only with her riches, all she could think about was what it would be like if she wasn't born alone.

She decided she wanted a girl, a sister; because boys were cruel and crude and grew up into men who tried to chain you down. And she wanted a younger sister, too, because she had had enough of being the baby and she wanted to be the one to teach her the things her parents had, like how to brush your hair just right or how to swing a sword correctly. They would be happy together, she thought, and play with each other when no one else would.

And in time that fantasy died, perished along with the rest of her family, and was supplanted by a bratty young prince and a timid servant girl who she could mentor the way she wanted too. They may not be all the family she needed, but they were all that she had.

"Morgana…. say something, dear, _please."_ Morgause said pleadingly.

And all this time, there was a sister out there waiting for her.

Morgana shook her head; it was all too much. It was all too… _wrong._

"No…" she muttered, pulling back even further against the headboard, averting her gaze from Morgause's worried, familiar eyes. "No!"

She threw herself sideways out of the bed, staggering on feet that wouldn't obey her and a spine bursting with agony. She felt carefully applied sutures tear as she began to fall, but to her surprise an invisible hand caught her before she hit the wolfskin rug.

"You have nothing to fear from me." Morgause- the _liar-_ was saying softly, keeping her slender hand outstretched as she moved off the bed. Her bright red dress flared as she swept forward with an infuriatingly worried look about her- as if she actually…

Morgana let out an audible growl when the sorceress came closer, unable to even move against her spell as gentle hands helped her to stand again. Both locked eyes, shoulder to shoulder, as some indescribable something seemed to flicker between them. Almost like the first time she saw Merlin.

_Exactly_ like what the first time she saw Mordred.

As a slow, genuine smile spread across the older woman's face, Morgana shivered as if breaking herself of a trance. Roughly, she pulled herself from Morgause's grip.

"Why are you doing this?" Morgana spat, getting in her face. Morgause regarded her calmly, aggravating in her refusal to be cowed.

"Doing what, sister?"

"DON'T YOU-!" Morgana stopped herself short, flaring her nostrils. Morgause's eyes sparkled, somewhere between challenge and hurt, and Morgana felt her anger deflating almost against her will. Between her attack and her dream, and now _this,_ she felt her walls cracking. "Th-the loss of my family was the worst experience of my life, but the love I feel for them endures. _Do not_ try to use that against me."

A hand rested on her again, this time on the inside of her elbow, and the lady looked down at it. She tried hard to ignore the jolt of familiarity that came from her fingertips.

"I… can imagine how hard this must be," She heard Morgause whisper, giving in after a moment and meeting her compassionate eyes. "But you must accept the truth. Look at me, Morgana, _really look_."

"N-no." Morgana responded with a shake of her head, trying to pull her arm out of the sudden vice grip.

"Sister-" She was pleading now, eyes wide and brown below fine brows, just like her mother, _and she couldn't take it._

"NO!" The blast of magic was neutralized by an equal one from Morgause, but it was still enough to push her back a foot. Morgana scrambled to try to get away, to get to the door across the room, but instead found her now bleeding wound sabotage her efforts. Her whole body seized up and she collapsed backwards onto the bed, barely managing to prop herself up to avoid contact with her injury.

Morgause was eyeing her, impressed and concerned, but thankfully did not attempt to move closer. She just stood there for a moment, tilting her head empathetically with her hands clasped in reservation in front of her. Morgana fought to catch her breath.

"You already know that what I'm saying is true, deep down." Morgause admonished, like a disappointed tutor. She smiled when Morgana tried and failed to keep her eyes off her. "Or perhaps not so deep down. The same blood, the same _magic_, lives in us. It binds us as if we were not deprived of our childhood together… it can only be called destiny."

"I don't believe in destiny." Morgana snapped, but even she could feel her fire flickering, and the cold horror of what this meant beginning to creep in.

"Even so," Morgause conceded with another slant of her chin. "You believe in _me;_ against your will, you do. With all your heart, you _do._"

Morgana stared up at her, emanating power and wisdom and warmth, and shuddered under the weight of a life she never lived, in which she and her sister grew up playing together in the fields of Cornwall. In her core, she could not deny the subtle twine of their magic harmonizing, a sensation she now knew to be what she had shared with Morded, a gift she was blessed to experience every day she so much as looked at Merlin.

It was love. It was _home._

Tears spilled from her frightened eyes.

"…Where have you _been?"_

###

Uther was shaking.

He didn't know when the tremors in his hand started, perhaps they had always been there, gnawing at his swordgrip under his nose. He didn't know when his eyes had begun darting left to right across the aisles, watching for invisible magic to show its face, to ruin everything, to _take_ her from him!

His children weren't here. They were all gathered in the throne room under that singed arch, but his beloved children _weren't here!_

Uther felt his mouth twitch inadvertently, his hand around the hilt of his blade shaking it hard enough to make a jittering noise. He couldn't stand to crumble like this, not in front of his subjects, and pulled himself back together with a harsh glare at Geoffrey of Monmouth's worried look.

Even his old face adverting itself in terror didn't sooth him. Uther frowned. Making people scared always used to sooth him... if only Gaius were here.

His eyes screwed shut the moment the thought came, and he suffocated it and all the guilt it rode in on with extreme prejudice. He wasn't responsible for that.

_It wasn't my fault!_

_Shush, my dear._ Came her loving tones, in his head, in his heart; his very life, come back to him! _No more fear. They'll be here soon, and they'll belong to each other._

_And then no one can hurt them!_ Uther said with a childish inflection he hadn't used in ages, not since she died, would not allow any other see the side of him that belonged only to her.

_And then no one can hurt them._ His Ygraine agreed with a heartfelt giggle. _But you must watch them, my Uther, my dearest. You cannot let them stray the way you did… it hurt ever so much…_

Uther winced as if struck.

His queen had never fully healed from his betrayal… he hadn't been able to help it, not when she and Gorlois gave each other _those_ looks, no matter her protests that she was the man she chose. Not when her bastard brother Tristan was always there, in his ear, telling him what a consolation prize he was, just to see the look on his face! Not when Vivianne was in the same boat, so scared of losing her own spouse, so understanding, so _warm…_

He fought hard to keep their liaisons a secret. Had wept and thanked the gods when the blond child she bore died, and later dried his tears and allowed his oldest friend to think his next, brunette daughter his own. But his dearest had always known him too well, and no secret could stay buried forever.

Her spirit fled him, and he let the people believe the tears her shed were those of joy for the children entering the room now; and not revulsion for himself, for his crimes, and for his children, joyous and linked at the arm, forced into that most unholy of vows.

But at least they would be safe.

(He didn't allow himself to notice the raspy laughter, echoing from where his Ygraine had been.)

###

Morgana's eyes burned a hole in the floor, as she struggled to realign her entire life story.

Ygraine and her fath- _Gorlois_ had been in love, years before they met their spouses. Because of their residual affection, her mother and Uther had an ongoing affair. The first child had been born with Uther's hair color; her mother, in fear of the extent to which Uther would try to hide the evidence of his infidelity, told him that the infant Morgause died and gave her to Gaius, to bring to his old friends in the Priesthood. The second child, herself, had her mother's hair, and so was able to be passed as Gorlois' child.

Not that it was an entirely successful lie. Uther seemed to have figured it all out years ago, the monstrous son of a bitch, otherwise he wouldn't have had such a horrified reaction to the idea of her and Arthur laying together. Otherwise he'd encourage they be married in _all_ ways, rather than just the ways that allowed for Morgana to be kept chained to the Pendragons.

"How could he do this to me…?" she whispered brokenly at the rug. "He's supposed to be my _father!" _Her sister (the word shouldn't fit so easily) ran a comforting hand up her arm.

"I wouldn't expect to know what goes through our father's head, Morgana." Morgause said empathetically, from where she sat next to her on the bed. "Perhaps, he was trying to orchestrate events to claim you as his daughter… in law, at least."

Morgana let out a wordless shout, trying to leap to her feet, needing to be moving, running, hitting, anything to get this sick shock out of her. (_Oh god, my brother, Arthur's my brother, __**he's marrying his children together-**__)_ The pulsating stab wound and Morgause's iron grasp on her arm halted her efforts.

"You should be resting." She whispered in concern. "Your injury- I did my best, but I'm afraid I'm no healer…"

Morgana could have slapped herself. What was she thinking- was she a witch or not?

Fumbling, she managed to reach a sweaty hand over her shoulder and focused all the magic she could on the open sore. Ancient words fell from her lips in a daze as she moved her fingertips in a circle over it, gently swirling the damaged flesh and muscle closed. Halfway through the complex spell she faltered, the toll of the magic counteracting the health being restored to her, until her sister's hand joined hers and with an inaudible chime, their magic fused.

The wound sealed itself shut as if never having been there, and she turned to stare at Morgause with wide-eyes.

"…But clearly you _are_ a healer." She said wryly, impressed. "So much power… if I had known you had magic, any at all, I would have come for you the second I was able. I thought you did not have the gift… I worried you would be made in our father's image, like our brother."

Morgana stiffened. "Arthur is nothing like our- like Uther. _Nothing."_

Morgause dipped her head. "Forgive me, sister, but I fear from the outside, he looks his father's son."

Morgana shook her head, taking a moment to stretch her healed back, before turning back. She was unnerved by how much she had to make her understand. "Arthur has spent most of his life vying for his father's approval." She began heatedly, capturing Morgause's curious gaze with her own. "That has led him to do or say certain things he himself wouldn't… but when it comes down to it, he has always followed his heart; and it is pure. You must merely ask Mordred."

She delivered that last line as an aside to herself, a reminder that whatever his faults Arthur had risked himself and all he believed for a sorcerer. So she had not expected Morgause to pull back as if slapped.

"…Mordred?" She whispered, looking at her with big, eager eyes. "It was _Arthur_ who delivered Morded from Uther's hands?"

"How do you know Morded?" Morgana said shrewdly… there was something there, just on the edge of her consciousness, something obvious screaming at her to notice it. Morgause simply gave her a sad, proud smile, and Morgana almost did a double-take when it finally clicked into place. "Oh my… he's your son, isn't he? _Morded is my nephew!"_

"I _knew_ you recognized him as family." Morgause said joyously, taking her hands with an excited, shaking grasp. "I dreamt that you would meet him when he needed you the most… I dreamt you and that warlock of yours would save him from the axe that claimed his father."

This time Morgana did pull back, stumbling successfully into a backpedal until she hit an old vanity. Morgause remained seated, her hands frozen were Morgana's had been, hurt and disappointed. She looked utterly harmless. But she knew about Merlin- _she knew about Merlin-_

"A Seer…" She murmured anxiously. "H-how long have you been watching me?"

"I believe you know as well as I that a Seer's dreams do not work that way." Morgause replied gently, slowly standing but giving her the distance she needed from their overpowering bond. It was all too much… "In the days before my love perfected this healing bracelet-" she caressed the bright gold bangle around her wrist with a wistful smile. "- I saw you often; showing our mother your swordplay in Cornwall, or courting your coy sorcerer in Camelot. Sometimes I still take the bracelet off, and brave the horrors to come, just to get a glimpse of your face."

Morgana's grip on the edge of the vanity slackened, her steeliness bending under her sister's- _because that was what she was_- vulnerable eyes, watching her with eagerness and tenderness. It occurred to her then that this woman had been aching for her for years now, for the sister she could never know. Her heart melted a little at the thought.

Morgause stepped closer, carefully, like coaxing out a scared animal. She supposed she must look quite similar, huddled back against the mirror like that.

"I've never gotten a chance to thank young Merlin for saving my son…" She said. "…but now, I can at least tell _you_ how grateful I am. _Thank you,_ Morgana, so much."

A blind man could have seen the plea for acceptance underneath her words, the loneliness that she knew all too well. And Morgana would have to be as heartless as her father not to be moved by it. Before she knew it, she had pulled her long lost sister into a fierce hug, and together they cried for all that been taken from them.

###

The Troll just really didn't get those humans.

Honestly, she stood there, wearing the downright ugliest form she'd ever taken, surrounded by the downright ugliest _people_ she'd ever seen. They flooded into the human king's hideous throne room, each as thin and clear skinned as the last, wearing clothing that was tight and colorful with _no tatters at all._ They greeted each other by names… _names,_ what a dumb convention! Why would they need to label each other? Trolls didn't need names, because Trolls didn't need each other.

She was simply a Troll, as she'd always been, and it killed her black heart just a little, every time someone called her 'Morgana'. But she had a role to play, as annoying and _cleanly_ as it was, and if she could manage…_ oh, but if she could manage…_

The Troll allowed the cleanly king to take her arm, and to the horrendously even tune of trumpets, they marched down the aisle. Despite herself, she couldn't hate the simpering masses at either side; they loved her, and she'd never felt such devotion before in her entire life. Perhaps there _was _something to be said for ruling with care instead of fear.

…

_Nah!_

"I'm so proud of you," Uther Pendragon was whispering in the shell of her too small ear, and she almost guffawed at how damn _weepy_ he sounded. _Honestly, what kind of man is this?_ "I never thought you'd come around this way… it means so much to me, Morgana."

The Troll shared a goofy smile with her betrothed under the arch, enchanted out of his mind and slavishly devoted to her. As he should be, the hideous thing. Those golden locks, those pouty lips, and that _muscle definition;_ oh, if her mother could see what creature she was marrying, she'd have a fit! (Well, she would if she hadn't abandoned her at infancy, to raise herself in the swamp, like all proper Troll parents.)

"I-I could never stay mad at you, my lord." she said, affecting tears as much as she could without gagging. "I should have known my place, and that you knew best. You are the closest thing to a father I have… and I love you very much."

For a moment their procession stopped dead, and she stumbled embarrassingly on her terrible silky dress. Glaring away Arthur's desire to come running valiantly to her aid, she righted herself and turned to look demurely (but a bit impatient, because dammit, when can she just wear that fucking crown?) up at the king.

Uther was staring at her with huge, wet eyes, as if he'd never seen this face before. He looked old, and broken, and so, _so_ grateful; for a brief instant, the Troll felt something approaching affection flare inside of her. Then, as if a weight lifted off his shoulders, he stood tall and gave her the brightest smile she'd yet seen. And they continued. _(Finally, gods!)_

The Troll reached the dais with a cheesy grin, and tried not to blanch when Arthur pecked her on the cheek, to annoying whoops and chuckles from a crowd not expecting such bold action. Arthur and Uther shared a companionable grin and shoulder slaps (_And they call me an oaf!)_ before he passed her hand to the prince like a valuable jewel. She mirrored Arthur's lovestruck smile as best she could, trying not to cringe at the softness of his hands clasping hers. The indicative looks she gave the old man performing the ceremony seemed to do nothing to start it, and it took a second for her to realize that it was because Uther hadn't moved from in front of them.

"I cannot tell you what joy this gives me." He said to them royally, hands clutching both their shoulders. "I hope we can leave past sorrow behind us, and move into a bright new future, as a family."

He looked at her with a tilted, piercing stare, looking hungry and mad, and it actually almost made her shiver.

"With you, at last, _my _daughter."

The Troll forced a smile.

"I look forward to all of us finally being the family we were meant to be. Together." She said lovingly, and fought down a laugh as Uther actually began to cry with joy while moving to their side. And she was left facing down the enchanted prince's saucy smile, and the crown waiting for her in the old man's hands.

_It's about damn time._

###

"Oh, you STUPID whore!"

Morgana didn't even bother acknowledging her new sister's wince across from her at her shout. She was so angry right now she couldn't be bothered to care one way or the other.

It hadn't taken long to convince Morgause to bring her something to scry with, as the parade of new revelations had only briefly distracted her from her overwhelming terror for her husband, and now it was a constant presence. This new dream, in which he was executed by a monster wearing her face, was even worse than the last. At least than, the last thing he had seen had been her terrified visage. Now, he would only remember her twisted grin as the beast swung the axe down. She had dreamt it, so she knew it couldn't be happening _right now,_ but the need to know he was safe burned inside of her just as strongly.

_Safe, Morgana? A monster has taken your form and enchanted your brother! God, Arthur, my brother…_

The first recital of wedding vows broke her out of her reverie, and back down to the scrying pool she was gripping as if ready to hurl it. The not-Morgana was making a mockery of her, all doe eyed and breathless, and Arthur was a parody of himself; and through it all her disgusting father honestly seemed pleased with the difference. (That word _really _shouldn't fit as easily as it did.)As _volcanic_ as it all made her, it paled in comparison to how angry she was that the man she loved was in such peril; that he needed her and she couldn't help him, _again._

But even with two powerful Seers quite adept at the art, they just couldn't seem to pin Merlin down. Remembering her difficulty the last time she had tried to scry for him, she wondered if his enviable magical resistance extended even to this. What they _could_ pin down was the massive wedding, in which her brother inexplicably drooled over the _thing_ that had stolen her face. It hadn't taken much to infer that he was under the creature's spell, but it certainly wasn't a good first impression for Morgause.

"He usually has much more class than this." Morgana sighed with an exasperated look, tearing her eyes away from the shiver-inducing sight of Arthur reciting his vows with tearful gusto.

"…Hopefully." Morgause responded evenly, quirking an eyebrow down at their brother. (_That_ word fit just as easily as it should.) Her brow furrowed as she leaned closer. "Hang on- that necklace… _it can't be…"_

Morgana looked back down to see the red jewel resting proudly on his chest, "Do you recognize it?"

Morgause nodded, burying any anxiety she felt with a kind of control Morgana could only envy. "Why, it's a troll amulet! That would explain such a powerful devotion; not many love potions work that hard, that fast." She met Morgana's eyes grimly. "I'm afraid merely taking the pendant will do little; the magic in it has now claimed him as its new conduit."

Morgana stewed, watching what she now knew to be a troll begin her own vows, with a veiled impatience that made the lady's face twist wrongly. The light and piety in Arthur's eyes as she spoke made her want to take both him and Gwen away from Camelot all together, someplace where those cursed walls could no longer play with them the way they played with her own marriage. Her _real_ marriage.

Uther wasn't even bothering to hide his tears anymore. His children were being _married,_ and he was overjoyed. What she had felt for Nimueh and Hengist was downright saintly, compared to the revulsion that now curled in her gut every time she looked at her father.

"…Do you truly hate him that much?" Morgause said, as if testing the waters.

Morgana looked up at her. "You cannot _imagine_ how much I hate him."

And for first time, the sight of just how much she wanted the king dead did not bring open-mouth horror. For the very first time, somebody smiled darkly back at her, and she reveled in having somebody finally _get it._

"You said you wanted my help." Morgana drawled finally. "I-in taking back the throne, that is."

Morgause nodded severely. "I was planning on attacking today, while the city is busy rolling in its own extravagance. When I heard that our father had announced my sibling's marriage, I knew I had to act." She bit out coldly, her knuckles bleach-white around the bowl's edge. "But I've never been to Camelot, and I was wary of trying to breach its defenses. I was unsure of my course… until I sensed a familiar presence riding away from the castle."

"You were going to ask for my help… but then the troll must have sensed me as well." Morgana said in realization. They shared a smile then, as close to goofy as two refined ladies would allow, at simply being able to puzzle out how they met. The moment broke when doubt began to creep in. "But, attacking the city, I don't know…"

"_Excuse_ me?" Morgause spat, and Morgana jumped at the sudden venom in her tone. Her dark eyes seemed to grow large enough to consume her face, pulsating with the hatred running in her. "Have you seen what that monster has done to this world? To his own _family?_ He killed _my_ husband, what makes you think he won't do away with yours whenever he pleases?"

She took in a sharp breath to continue, before seeming to come back to herself, deflating and turning her back to take a few steps away from the little table in the bedroom. The air in the room, abruptly taught with tension, flooded with an indescribable grief. Morgana grimaced, gliding carefully over to put a companionable hand on her new sister's shoulder, surprised to feel it shaking with silent sobs.

"I was happy, Morgana." Morgause whispered. ".His name was Cerdan, and he made me happy. And now, without him, I can't even remember what the word means anymore."

Morgana felt her own tears welling up, partially out of the sorrow she felt as if her own, partially because of the glimpse she was being given at herself, deprived of the one she loved. The words she was searching for, some smooth phrase to comfort this woman who had lost so much, refused to form on her lips. Hanging her head in defeat, she noticed for the first time the edges of a tattoo peeking out from under the edge of her dress straps.

"You're a Druid?" She whispered in surprise.

Morgause shrugged off her hand and turned back to her, the redness around her eyes now the only evidence of her brief collapse. "No longer. I am not worthy to follow their tenants… not with what I hope to _rain down_ on my dear father for what he has stolen from me."

Morgana sighed; for some reason, she couldn't stand to see Morgause in such obvious pain. "Perhaps…"

"Perhaps nothing." She snapped. "Uther Pendragon would have killed me at birth just to keep the women he was obsessed with. His shadow chased me to the sacred isle I had been raised on, slaughtered all the brave mothers I loved, and drove the only one I had left as mad as himself. So then, just a child, I had to run away from my home, leave it burning there in the mist; run from a woman who should have given me solace but instead offered only _lunacy_."

"Morgause…" She whimpered, but her sister only laughed harshly.

"I thought I was safe! I thought I could find a new home, there in the forest with those people!" Her fury melted away as suddenly as it had come, and a warm glow arrived in her face to replace it. "Cerdan was the one who found me, starving in the woods. From the first moment I laid eyes on him, all scruff and warmth, I knew I was in love. He saved me, held me when I cried, appealed to Elder Aglain to be made one of them. Gave me a beautiful son… _He loved me,_ the way no one ever has, and one day my little boy had to come home shaking and tell me that _my father cut his bloody head off, and I can't-"_

Morgause's rant, the terrible twists of her face as grief and rage gnawed at her, cut off when a raucous cheer echoed out of the forgotten bowl. And they both knew what it meant.

"Oh, please no…" Morgana said.

###

Arthur was kissing his wife, and it was magnificent.

No, the word was not enough. He had never felt such joy, such all-encompassing peace of the kind he felt whenever he so much as thought of her. His feelings erupted and devoured him as their lips met, all sense of identity crushed beneath her still mouth. This was true love; submission of the self, and he was all too eager to give in to her. Morgana… how had he never noticed her before? How had it been so hard to force that early flirtation, when now it was so impossible to stop kissing her? How could he have ever loved-

Wait.

_Waitwaitwait-_

_No,_ this is wrong! How could he have _not_ loved her; not Morgana, the other one! Her face… dancing chocolate eyes, sparking with wisdom beyond her years, and bouncing curls sometimes pulled back, sometimes let loose. And a _big_ smile, like the first tinges of spring peeking out over the snow… their lips fused as perfectly as steel mesh, and as powerfully. In her mouth was himself, was Arthur Pendragon in all his victory and failure, and he was never more himself than when he was with… with…

…what was her name? God, what had happened to him? _Why couldn't he-_

"I now pronounce you, Prince and Princess, Arthur and Morgana Pendragon!"

Morgana pulled away to hungrily duck into the bejeweled crown before it could be placed on her head, and Arthur's self sank back into the still waters of her. What had he been thinking about? It couldn't be that important, if he couldn't even remember it now. Arthur's happily ever after had finally arrived, and now, there was only one thing left to do.

Because his beloved was a sorceress, and for some reason that thought didn't scare him. It only made her more godly, just like everything else about her. But his father had issues with magic, and if he found out… well, there were only two people who knew, weren't there?

"People of Camelot!" Arthur shouted, taking his wife's supple hand in his own. "I thank you, for taking this journey with us today. But now, it is time to move on to the next order of business." He hesitated. Should he… _could he?_

Morgana caught his eye and he knew the answer was yes. He would do anything for her.

"My manservant, Merlin, is a sorcerer." Arthur announced, to the gasps of the crowd.

"And my maidservant, Guinevere, is his accomplice." Morgana chimed in. He fought to ignore the lurch in his gut when he heard that name.

"A-Arthur, is this true?" His father said, joining them on the dais. Arthur just looked at him grimly, waiting for the expected explosion. And sure enough…

"**BRING ME MERLIN'S HEAD!"**

It was a shame, really. Merlin had been such a good friend; better than he deserved, really. And this… 'Guinevere'…

###

"Will you aid me now, sister?"

Morgana kept her hard gaze on the charred remnants of the bowl, gold eyes lighting up the dark room.

"Till the end of the world."

###

**11 pages, come on self, honestly now. I hope my Morgause was palatable; more than a bit of a departure, not gonna lie. But I can't write a character whose motivation is so 'meh'. Making her driven by love and grief, another possible future for Morgana should she lose Merlin, seemed to fit well. I hope it works~! :) And I'm really sorry for the lack of Merwen magic!talk. It turns out introducing a major character this late in the game, trying to sell their relationship with an established character, AND building up backstory for them takes a lot more room than you'd think. Note to fellow first time writers; introduce important stuff like this earlier. Do not make my mistake. D:**

**Good news, though; next chapter is entirely devoted to Merlin and Gwen. Bad news, though; I'm very sick. If there are any rough patches in this chapter (well, rougher than normal ;D) then that's why. I'm not sure how long until whatever this is passes, but worse case there may be yet another delay in updating. I don't want to write the finale to the story while out of my mind with a fever. :/**

**5-6 chapters to go! All good things…**


	29. The Queen's Stirrings

As a boy, Merlin had killed a bird.

It was Will's fault really, he had thought at the time. His best friend had just found out his secret, and wanted to see what he could do. One thing had led to another, and before he knew it a stray blast of force had knocked the little thing out of one of the forest's dense trees. The fall had savaged it, legs twisted wrongly and most of its feathers lying in clumps around it. Blood was everywhere. But when a crying Merlin had yelled at Will and shoved away his finger, poking with the fascination only children can have at the dead, the blue bird had opened its beady eyes and given single, tiny cry. Looking down at it, on the verge of death, the little warlock knew he couldn't let this stand.

It had always been like that for Merlin. He could never stand to see anybody hurt, not when he knew he could fix it. Not when he was at fault, not when he could feel the power crackling in his fingers; if only he could _just…_ but that power had done this to the bird in the first place, hadn't it? His mother had always said he needed to be wary of himself, because he could so easily hurt someone…or worse. He finally knew what she had meant.

The bird hadn't lasted the night. Will had stayed with them to help, ashamed of his earlier callousness, while his mother stayed by his side and gently tried to tell him how little hope there was. Screwing his too-big eyes up, Merlin continued trying to weave the magic that the bird needed, too scared to lose control of himself again, even though that was the only time his magic seemed to do what he wanted it too. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. And when it drew its last shuddering breath, and Hunith and Will had pulled him into a hug, he gagged between them, breath stolen by shame and guilt.

Merlin had taken a life with his magic, and a new fear of that same power had kept him from saving it. It had followed him since then, like a hand around his throat, keeping him constantly aware of who else could be hurt if he let himself go, constantly afraid of himself.

_Gaius would know what to do._

But Gaius was slowly dying in his old bed, and Merlin wasn't brave or cowardly enough to kill someone to save him. Still too scared to cut loose, to be the killer he already was. Looking at him now, pallid and still under the covers, Merlin wondered what he'd say if he were here. Imagined the sympathetic furrow that he'd give, so different from his "leech tank, now!" eyebrow, and the guiding words that he so desperately needed to hear. Merlin had never done well taking charge on his own… but now, there was nobody but him to forge ahead.

Especially not Morgana. (_Shh, don' t think about her, she's fine, she has to be, you'd know if…)_

A gasp in the main room snapped him mercifully from his reverie, and Merlin knew that Gwen was finally awake. With one last, long look at Gaius' shrunken form, he ambled out into the physician's chambers. Tried not to flinch at the look on her face when she saw him.

"M-Merlin…?" Gwen murmured after a long moment, struggling to keep sitting up in the patient's cot. With her brown eyes like saucers and mocha fingers whitening around the blanket's edge, she looked scared for her life. Not that he could blame her.

"You, ah, you fainted, Gwen." Merlin said as gently as he could, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking absentmindedly on his heels. Subservient and gawky, just like she remembered him. (He hoped.) "With… everything, it's no surprise you collapsed almost the second we lost the guards. Night's since fallen."

He watched her take stock of her environment, noted the way she eyed the exit as if judging how fast she could get to it, and then turned back to him with a stare so royal and demanding that it could have given Morgana a run for her money. (_Morgana…)_

"Why did you save me?" Gwen said icily.

"Because you're my friend, and I love you." Merlin replied warmly.

Gwen just looked at him slack jawed, halfway between touched and offended. "Friends don't _lie_ to each other for years."

"Says the woman who lied to her oldest friend about Arthur." Merlin rebutted cordially.

"You're a _sorcerer!"_ Gwen hissed back. Merlin winced; he wished it didn't sting so much, the way she spat it, like a curse- or a slur.

"Well, you don't have to say it like _that."_ He protested, scratching his eyebrow tiredly. "Really, Gwen, we're not so bad once you get to know us. Well, _some_ of us, anyway…"

Gwen just gaped at him adorably, like a rather lovely fish, and he'd find it cute if it wasn't so sad. She had no idea what was going on, what had happened since she had been out… his deceit was the least of her problems.

With a sigh, he magically pulled a chair across the room and plopped down into it next to her, pointedly ignoring her frightened gaping at his open display of magic. _Let her deal with what I am,_ he thought bitterly; the whole city already was.

"So… how did you find out?" He began carefully.

"I-I followed Morgana down to the cavern… to th-the dragon." Was Gwen's strained answer. He was heartened to see that she was still capable of being amused by his obvious approval for her sneaking skills, however reluctant it was. "And I saw you and… I_ saw_ that all this time, my best friends have been living a lie."

"Yes, but you still didn't tell anyone, did you?" Merlin cut in cheerfully. Gwen deflated a little, her frizzy curls seeming to shrink under his knowing eye. "If you really thought us evil, you would have gone straight to Arthur and have him chop our heads off. But instead, you sat on it, even though it was starting to put a strain on your relationship."

"I-I was going to tell him today!" Gwen fired back, panicked. "I didn't _know_ who you two really were, but I love him and I realized I couldn't put him in danger that for anyone… not even for you."

"Well, I'm grateful for your efforts, anyway." His bittersweet smile faded. "Not that it matters much now…"

Yes, word traveled fast in Camelot. Arthur and... _whoever_ she was had married, and promptly spilled his closely guarded secret to the entire court. Merlin felt a rush of cold rage he almost couldn't tamper down. The people he'd protected, the very people who owed him their lives _countless times over,_ were hunting him and his best friend now. Well, former best friend…

Looking up, he realized there were glimmers of sympathy in Gwen's face that she was trying to fight; perhaps there was some hope, after all.

"Merlin, what hap-"

"Oh, splendid, you're awake!"

Merlin immediately rushed over to his mother as she entered, allowing her to make sure she hadn't been followed before pulling her into a fierce hug that she returned. He hated that she was here, trapped in the middle of this circus; worse, that she was the only one he could rely on to be his eyes and ears in the castle now. Hunith patted him worriedly on the cheek, eyes shining with tears Merlin was bitterly pushing down. He couldn't afford another good cry into her shoulder, they were running out of time…

"H-Hunith?" Gwen said, startled. Perhaps she had forgotten that he even had a mother with all the fear the word 'sorcerer' had brought with it. Hunith smiled tightly and said hello, quickly entering 'mother hen' mode as she fussed over the bewildered handmaiden, making sure she was alright. Merlin took her silence as confirmation that the patrol wasn't coming back; his amped up unnoticeability spell had done its job, for the time being.

Gwen waved his mother off with uncharacteristic anger, coming to a boil. "Would someone _please tell me_ what the hell is going on?"

"Language, young lady." Hunith clucked disapprovingly. Her face dropped along with her humor. "As for what's going on, it appears someone has replaced my daughter-in-law, put Arthur under a spell, and revealed my son's secret to the entire castle with an order to decapitate him, and his accomplice. Which would be you."

Gwen mouthed wordlessly for a moment, and Merlin could only shrug lifelessly when she turned her shocked look at him. He watched as, completely against her will, her fear and betrayal melted into that bright concern that she could never tamp down for anyone. _Guinevere the maid, _he thought idly, _with a heart big enough to hold the whole world. _Merlin gave her a small smile, the first true one he'd worn since this nightmare had all began, and chortled under her confused look.

She didn't even know what a magnificent queen she would be.

Gwen swallowed and looked back up at Hunith, looking vulnerable again. "So… so they… Arthur-"

"…Married her, yes." Hunith said gently, in the same tone she had used to break the news that Merlin's little bird wouldn't survive. She rested a motherly hand on Gwen's shoulder as her head dropped, hiding her devastated eyes behind her hair. When the sniffles began, Merlin firmly refused his legs' request to go pull her into a hug, knowing he might just make things worse at this point. Instead he watched his mother sit next to her, rubbing consoling circles into her back, until the first stirrings of Gwen's tears abruptly stopped and she got to her feet briskly.

Merlin didn't wilt under her hard gaze, no matter how honestly scary it was; he wasn't about to allow himself to be cowed today, not when Morgana was… he didn't even know where she was. He allowed Gwen to simply look him over, trying to puzzle him out, until finally she said what they both were waiting for her to say. "…Why are you here?"

"To help." He replied simply, tiredly. He needed this to be over, so he could find her, so he could know everything would be alright…

"_Why?"_ Gwen sighed after a moment, and Merlin read the longer question beneath it. If Camelot had done nothing but persecute his people, why was he helping them? Merlin exhaled heavily before taking one step forward, causing Gwen to backpedal momentarily, seeing something in his eyes that wasn't there before.

"Because I believe in Arthur." Merlin declared, and any other day he'd be almost cringing under the royal tone of voice, so like his wife it was scary. "Because I know that one day, when he's king, my people will be safe and free. Because I don't want to prove Uther right and end his reign with violence. Because I love my wife, and we both love him, and we both love _you._"

Merlin took another few steps towards her, feeling his weary composure crumbling away along with the tears welling up. His mother shot him an encouraging look when Gwen didn't move away. His friend- his best friend- was looking at him with a reticent understanding, as if she so wanted to believe him but was so scared to.

"It tore her up, lying to you, just as it did me. Gwen, the only thing we have _ever_ wanted is for us, _the four of us,_ to be happy. That's it. There's no big scheme, no grand plot. We have magic, and we love you, and we want to make things better… but Arthur's turned the whole kingdom's against us and I don't know where Morgana is or-or if she's even _okay,_ and Gaius is gone, my whole _future's_ gone, a-and I just need you to tell me you understand, Gwen."

He came to a stop right in front of her, voice cracking with his pain, his fear, his loss.

"Because then I'll, I'll know that everything's gonna be alright." Gwen's mask slipped further, and his heart surged. "_Please, _Gwen."

With those two words, her tiny arms crushed him against her, and she was sobbing into his chest and he was sobbing just as hard into her hair, and he was pretty sure his mother was sobbing in the background too, because he knew they had found each other again. They had survived. She wasn't scared of him, she knew the truth and _she wasn't scared of him._

"I-it was you, wasn't it?" Gwen said, muffled against his expensive tunic, the one he was not taking off until the woman who had bought it for him slid it off his shoulders herself. "You cured my father from the avanc's poison… you gave me all those months with him, Merlin…"

She gasped with realization and pulled back to look at him with shocked eyes.

"You tried to expose yourself for me! _To Uther's face!_ He was going to _kill_ me, and you…"

When she finally flatted herself back against him, her grip said everything she couldn't say.

"_Thank you. I'm so sorry."_

Catching his mother's proud eye, Merlin smiled genuinely for the second time that night. So what if things looked bleak? He had his best friend back, and right now, that was all that mattered.

And that was when the doors burst open, and Arthur and the knights strode in.

###

Gwen couldn't breathe.

The room, Gaius' tiny chambers, were suddenly crowded, suddenly alive with malice. Maybe that had something to do with the dozen odd knights spilling into the room, moving to surround them from all sides with polished crossbows bearing down on them. To be honest, she rather thought it was more owed to the terrible frozen smile on her Arthur's face.

"You've had a good run of it, sorcerer." He began magnanimously, _pretentiously,_ so unlike himself it was almost comical. "But your dear old mum isn't so good at sneaking as you'd hoped."

Merlin shifted so both she and his mother were shielded behind his outstretched arms. Five seconds ago, he'd looked young and vulnerable, just like the Merlin she'd always known and loved. Now he was suddenly lithe, dangerous, the very air seeming to rise on its hackles around the three of them. She would have been afraid had she not, for the very first time, been close enough to really _feel_ his magic. It wrapped around them both, like a blanket, like armor, like a lullaby soothing their fear and a war drum bolstering their courage.

It was _Merlin,_ and she didn't know how she ever could have been afraid of it.

"_Arthur Pendragon!"_ Hunith gasped from behind her son's shoulder, outraged. "I am _very_ disappointed in you, young man."

Merlin hushed her as Arthur smiled tightly, capturing the prince's gaze with a bold step forward.

"I'm sorry you had to find out like this, Arthur." He said carefully, eyeing the trigger-happy bowmen encircling the junky room.

"Something tells me you wouldn't have wanted me to find out at all." He said bitterly, almost sullenly. It was actually a relief to see that flicker of pain on Arthur's face, to hear the betrayal in his voice, just to see that he was still in there somewhere. "So, care to tell me why you risked your worthless hide by my side for a year and a half?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you…"

"I suppose since you've had ample time to kill me, you needed me alive to convince me to rescind the laws against magic for you? Was that what all those cheeky lectures on equality were about?"

Merlin shifted awkwardly. "…Although that's a good start."

Gwen watched Arthur shake the hair out of his eyes, somehow making the simple motion sinister, before stepping into Merlin's personal space threateningly.

"I can't imagine what she ever saw in a little liar like you." He whispered dangerously; cold fires in his eyes. "It doesn't matter… because she's _mine_ now, Merlin. And I am _hers."_

For the first time since the man she loved had kissed her best friend and ordered her death, Gwen felt a spark of fury melt through the frozen solid grief lacing her. For the first time she fully understood what had been done to Arthur, and that _of course_ it wasn't Morgana doing this. Even at her worst, her lady could do something like this, could never reach inside someone and scoop out everything they cherished about themselves, could never… would never…

A harsh whisper in her mind called it what it was.

_Rape._

By God, if Merlin didn't kill the woman wearing Morgana's face, she _most definitely_ would.

"It's not Morgana." She announced, calmly ducking under Merlin's arm like a low hanging branch and facing Arthur, much to both men's bewilderment. But she wasn't afraid anymore; this was her Arthur, and he needed her.

"I- excuse me?" Arthur said, flustered in his attempts to maintain dominance over the room. She openly giggled at him, at the way his royal veneer crumbled like always the second she pinned him with her eyes, and that only made him blush further. Even magic couldn't subdue that iron will of his completely; that was her Arthur, larger than life. She flashed _that_ smile, which had him actually stumbling.

"Arthur, you and I both know that Morgana would never be able to kiss you like that." Gwen continued, unafraid. "Not just because you're like a brother to her, but because she's already married to-"

The sword came to rest over her heart.

It was like a gasket had blown in Arthur's eyes. They were stuck somewhere between looking at her like he always had and being drunk out of his mind on this evil spell, the clouded blues darting around her face unstably. She only spared the sword the barest glance before going back to watching him, her heart aching at the obvious agony that trying to fight the enchantment was causing him.

Merlin made to move forward, the first tinges of a frightening glow in his eyes, but Hunith's fierce grasp on his arm and her own 'please stop being a prat' look saw him backing down. As it should; she had spent ages refining it on Arthur.

"S-she _is_ Morgana Pendragon, and she is m-married to _me._" Arthur drawled dangerously, frightened, as if the very thought of his new wife not being who she said was was an affront to God himself. And she realized then that this wasn't some sort of love potion; it was a _worship_ potion.

"Alright, Arthur," She hummed soothingly; whatever he needed to believe until Merlin could break the magic- _could _he break the magic? They hadn't had time… "Why don't you take me to her, and you can tell me all about what a wonderful wedding you had?"

Arthur eyed her worriedly, as if she would suddenly spring a dagger on him. "…You won't try to hurt her?"

Gwen held up her hands in surrender. "You... you once told me that you loved me too much to put me in a cage, that you'd be nothing but happy for me if I found another. I'd be selfish not to return the favor."

His eyes melted, awash in memories of that night cuddling in her bed, of the love they shared. In those few seconds before it was buried again, she could _feel_ the real Arthur reaching out to her.

Arthur nodded and turned his sword to point at Merlin.

"And you? Surrendering as well?"

Merlin grit his teeth, sly eyes assessing the room strategically in a way she'd only seen from the knights. Taking in the amount of firepower aimed at all of them. She saw it on his face when he realized that his powers, however great they must be, could not neutralize all of the bowmen before one of them fired at them. For a split second she wondered if he would use that traveling spell, the one he and Morgana used to disappear from the dragon's cave and reappear at another location, but a quick look at the back room crossed out that option too. Even if he could take them with him, Gaius would still be Arthur's hostage.

Gwen met his defiant face with a pleading one; if a fight began, she didn't know which of them would survive. She couldn't bear the thought of her boys hurting each other, or worse.

Merlin sighed, the soldier rising from his soldiers like vapor, and actually managed to smile at Arthur. "Once I've broken this hold she has over you, you're going to feel really bad about all this." He leaned in over the blade conspiratorially. "You should know, I expect a pay raise."

Hunith snorted and rolled her eyes.

"But I don't pay you, _Mer_lin." Arthur scoffed, somewhere between derision and affection.

"Well, clearly, you should start."

For a split second, Arthur looked like he might laugh, before he clamped down on his smile and launched forward to head butt his manservant hard enough to draw blood. Ignoring Hunith's scream as she rushed to catch her son's unconscious form, Arthur strode past Gwen triumphantly, hazy eyes lingering longer than they should.

###

Arthur pouted from his throne. He should have known something would happen to ruin his wedding night.

_Why does the sentencing have to be _tonight? He thought to himself, trailing a disappointed gaze over his wife's excited face on the throne on the other side of his father's. It was easy to convince himself that the reason he was annoyed was that they hadn't been able to consummate their wedding vows, and not because of his lingering affection for Guinevere.

_Gwen._ He thought harshly. _She doesn't deserve a name like that. Call her Gwen._ He shot a simmering glare at her where she knelt primly in front of the three thrones, bound with chains and looking as if she was sitting down to dinner with friends. Guine-_Gwen_ shared sympathetic looks with Hunith, who was cradling that traitor _Mer_lin's lifeless form, barely spared a disturbingly venomous glare at his wife and father, before bracketing him with a gaze so passionate it might as well have lit him ablaze.

Nothing he had wanted to do with Morgana made him feel as alive as her simply looking at him.

Not that there had been much of anything on his honeymoon night. Morgana was... evasive. And by that, he meant that she was literally running away from him every time he tried to get her on the bed. As if it wasn't bad enough that he had to sneak into her chambers- her _separate_ chambers- because his father had nearly had a heart attack when he talked of them proclaiming their love in the sweetest way. He even went so far as to threaten him, his own son, not to lay a hand on her! And she went along with it!

_Why is my love pushing me away? _He thought sulkily. _My beautiful, scrumptious, chocolate-covered love? She knows that she is the sky to my earth, the flint to my blade, the chicken to my… destiny?_

Morgana discreetly hissing at him to pay attention broke his musings, thankfully before any more terrible limericks. (Clearly, he did not have the heart of a poet.) This always happened when he thought too hard on her, his thoughts breaking down into madness as if unable to truly comprehend her. Like going blind staring at the sun. Valiantly, he took his father's chiding eyes to heart and tried to pull himself out of the trance she always put him under.

It was kind of nice, actually, not thinking about her. It made him feel centered… it made him wonder about a certain handmaiden, about what she had been through; being pursued by the guards _he_ had sent after her- did they hurt her at all? Did Merlin protect her as he always tried, or had that part of him been a lie too? Was she even safe with him? _Dammit, why did his thoughts keep drifting towards her?_

"You are, both of you, accused of harboring this sorcerer." Uther began menacingly; Arthur could not stop a sympathetic shiver. "The penalty is immediate execution. How do you plead?"

Guinevere and Hunith swapped looks, before Guinevere shook her bouncing waves out of her face- _Why do I want to touch them all of a sudden?-_ and lifted her chin almost aristocratically.

"Guilty, my lord." She said proudly.

Uther was growling openly at her defiance, and Morgana was snorting with hard laughter, but Arthur couldn't hear them. Not over the yawning of the hole opening up under him, threatening to swallow him because she was going to die, she would be_ burned,_ he had to save her, what was he doing, why wasn't his body listening, get up, _getgetupgetup-!_

"Ah… excuse me?"

Arthur snapped his head towards the doors, and the world righted itself. Somehow, he had missed the guards announcing Sir Leon's return from his patrol; his old comrade had offered to run guard duty outside Camelot's walls today, to make sure the wedding was protected. Though he had wondered about Leon's rather queasy looks whenever the subject was brought up… Arthur had been glad to see him go. Only those who approve of his bride should be allowed to watch their marriage.

"Yes, Sir Leon?" His father said, in that no-nonsense tone that said he was not in the mood for games. "As you can see, we are a bit busy sentencing these criminals at the moment."

Leon's pale eyes fell on Merlin, who he had always seemed to like, out cold with a bloody face in his mother's arms, before landing on Guinevere's sweet grimace. Arthur felt a slight tug of possessiveness when he remembered their childhood friendship, and how caring they had always been to each other.

Sir Leon swallowed and lifted his eyes back up to throne. "F-forgive my lord, but may I inquire what their crimes are?"

"You may not." Arthur shut him down pointedly, and was immediately countered by his wife.

"Oy, turns out Merlin here is a sorcerer," Morgana said beautifully, "and they were helpin' him out, weren't they?"

Leon gawked, eyes darting from Merlin to Guinevere to Morgana, before meeting Uther's impatient glare and falling back in line.

"The- uh- the patrol met up with our scouts earlier today, returning from deep reconnaissance. They bare troubling news," Sir Leon was saying with just a hint of bewilderment. "The Fires of Idirsholas have been lit once more."

"Wh- what?" His wife barked attractively, and he finally turned away from Guinevere to take her in. Instantly all thoughts of anyone else drained from him, and his every facet was devoured blissfully by her once more.

"Morgana, I didn't know you knew of that old tale." His father said, surprised.

"Ah- um, yes, sire, you know how I love to read. When I'm not sewing or gossiping, of course!" Morgana cooed sparklingly. He laughed; oh, his Morgana, such a proper lady!

A corner of Arthur's mind, chained and beaten, let out a humongous groan. In the corner of his eye, he could see Leon gaping openly, while Hunith and Guinevere glared darkly.

Uther was furrowing his brow at his bride strangely. "Yes, but all information on magic's squalor was purged long before you ever arrived."

Morgana didn't miss a beat, her mind as sharp as always. "I-ah- must have heard you mention it, sometime. Yes, that's it, Father!" She smoothed over rose-bushedly. So beautiful. _(Rose-bushedly? Are you _kiddi-)

The king exchanged warm glances with Morgana, the address seeming to rob him of whatever his ridiculous reasons for speaking out against her were, before he finally turned back to a very confused looking Sir Leon.

"Medhir's cursed knights have risen again, then?" Uther spat; literally, on the floor.

"I'm afraid so, sire." Leon replied. "My entire segment of the patrol and the scouts was slaughtered in the forest; I'm the only survivor. They were... they were the _foulest _black knights you can imagine, with unbelievable strength and skill. No weapon could fell them, and they were led by-" He suddenly broke off, his breath hitched, eyes wide.

"If you have anything more to say, Leon…" Arthur finally chimed in, managing to break his loving stare long enough to get back to the tale of the impending danger to his wife. Leon made an odd noise, before his eyes rolled back up into his head and he collapsed with a loud snore, revealing the cloaked figure standing in the cracked doorway.

Said black knights followed her in as everyone in the room shot to their feet, immediately locking blades with a shell shocked groups of guards. The woman threw off her hood imperiously... revealing a fierce stare set deep into an impossible face.

"Hello again, Father." Morgana the second announced, her eyes blazing, "I'm so sorry I couldn't make the wedding."

###

**So, the wait ended up beings two weeks. Sorry about that; I got better, but then I got writer's block (yay, again!), and then I relapsed, and then I said "screw the fever, I'm gonna write this already." Limping my way to victory, woo! ^0^ Ended up with no actual Merwen Detective Agency action- curses!- but all the ample Arwen time that I've been meaning to cram in. Queenly!Gwen is so damn fun to write, y'all.**

**From here on out, it's a marathon race to the finish! Only 3-6 more chapters to go! And while we're at it, let's make a drinking game out of it; ****whenever that number changes, ****take a shot of the poison of your choice. (Not hemlock, though! D:)  
**

**Next Time: Two Morganas, an Arthur, and a pizza place. Wait, wut?**


	30. House of Cards pt1

Merlin was dreaming.

It was _that_ morning- yesterday- before everything had gone wrong. He had finally finished melting the old jewelry Morgana had discarded, forged together into a wedding band fit for a queen. It was held suspended above his hands, excited eyes watching the white-hot metal cool into an elegant golden ring, topped by one of the blue sapphires she always said reminded him of her eyes. It would be the only thing he could really do for her, to make this even a little okay.

He saw himself present it to her, watching gray-green eyes light up in slow motion, wanting to replay the moment over and over in his sleep. Heard him say what it meant; that it would sit on her finger, next to the ring Arthur would put on her hand, so that every time she had to look down and be reminded of her false marriage, she could instead be reminded of her true one. Of the husband who would always be at home, waiting for her.

This time, they did not allow themselves to devolve into another stupid fight. _This_ time, they kissed, they made love, and they packed their things and ran far away, where no one could find them. They finally built that cottage by the river, under falling leaves and summer sun, and destiny never bothered them again.

It was perfect.

It was a lie.

The dream twisted and dissolved around him. Because they _had_ gotten into that dumb row, hadn't they? He could see it now, their faces screaming at each other; conjured up images of her in the forest, running off to wonder if she could really marry another man to save his life, finding herself cornered by dark figures. He watched her fight, as hard as ever before; his beautiful knight. He watched her fall, staring up at him with eyes both lifeless and accusing, he screamed.

_Why are you just standing there?_ Her voice whispered from the floor, blood pooling on the grass out of her dead lips. _You have two legs, use them._

His wife was dead, he realized. Morgana was _dead;_ all because he hadn't just _listened_ to her. Because he had brought her back to Camelot at all, destiny and duty overriding the simple fact that she hated it in there. They could have been _happy,_ there in the forest. Now, he wouldn't ever see her again.

"Morgana…"

"I'm right here, love…"

Merlin screwed his eyes up, shaking his head back and forth. He didn't want any more lies inside of him; there were already so many. There was so much inside… too much, filling him up! No more voices, no more Will, "Just let me rest…!"

"_Please_ wake up, Merlin." She said again, and he felt supple lips grasp his like a lifeline. Pulling him up, out of the water, out of the dark, and then-

###

Merlin awoke, flung away from his nightmare and into Morgana's kiss.

As always, his body responded before his mind could even catch up, his cracked lips fusing with her eager kiss in their old dance, slowly working life back into each other. By the time his brain awoke with the rest of him, he realized that it really _was _her. No dream or impostor could taste like this, could speak to him like this with the tiniest of shifts, or make him feel the longing and the relief bleed off her every pore.

Hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away, and finally laid eyes on his wife, once more.

"_Are you alright?" _She said anxiously inside of him, her eyes aglow with the spark only he could draw from her. _"I saw everything that's happened, Merlin, I was so scared for you-"_

Morgana actually jumped when Merlin, inexplicably, burst into giddy laughter. Letting it trail off fondly, he watched her face light up with that familiar confused amusement that she saved just for him.

"_I'm fine, Morgana."_ Merlin said, not even bothering to fight the tears. He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed the ring she proudly wore, grinning down at the way it had been switched to its proper place on her ring finger. _"Everything's just fine, now that you're here."_

Reverently, he stroked the sides of her face, her hair, relishing every jolt her skin sent into him. He should have known better than to risk this, even for Arthur. _This_ was his destiny, _this_ was his home.

"I'm so sorry." He said aloud, watching her eyes widen.

"What for…?" Morgana asked, crinkling her brow in that endearing way of hers. On a whim, basking in the glow of her, he leaned up to press his lips to it.

"_I shouldn't have brought us back here."_ Merlin thought at her, smiling against her hairline as supple arms twined around him almost compulsively. _"I'll never put you in danger like that again, I promise."_

"Ah, excuse me-"

A flash of ringlets to his side made him realize, finally, that Gwen and his mother had been next to them the whole time. Hunith mirrored his stupid grin, but her wary looks around them made him finally take stock of the situation. The throne room was in chaos; a wave of guards was rushing three or four black-cloaked warriors, who almost casually mowed them all down as if the numerous slashes and skewering inflicted on them meant nothing. Uther and Arthur were likewise occupied with the black knights, defending the pretender, who sat huddled on the throne looking somewhere between scared and enraged.

Merlin felt his wife mirror his anger, the black tongue of cold curling inside him at the sight of whoever this was, before Gwen's sheepish smile brought him back around to her.

"Ah, would you mind-?" And she and his mother both held up the chains, bound so tightly around their wrists that he thought they might scar. "With your magic, I mean."

"_Gwen_-!" Morgana said, looking at her oldest friend as if she had never seen her before. Merlin gave her an encouraging look, and with a surprised nod she tentatively cupped her hands around the lock and broke it with a few words. Gwen gave a sharp yelp as the iron fell off her, but at Morgana's flinch her face became grateful and apologetic.

"It's alright, my lady." She said gently, taking her hand. "Everything will be alright, I _promise._"

Merlin finished unchaining his mother, watching happily as the two most important women in his life smiled beautifully at each other. He caught his wife's eye and grinned himself, savoring the way the tension began to bleed off of her, even in the middle of a battle, as she realized…

"_She doesn't hate me!"_ Her voice said, almost tripping over herself in excitement.

"_Like I said,"_ Merlin replied lovingly. _"Everything's gonna be okay, now that you're-"_

BANG!

The back wall shuddered and nearly collapsed as it was blown inwards, knocking over the thrones and sending the Pendragons and the imposter scurrying back into the center of the room. Their shrouded opponents remained where they were, lifting their swords protectively, acting as royal guard for the armored figure striding purposefully through the rubble. Merlin was baffled as he felt Morgana inexplicably relaxing against his side at the person's entrance, but she ignored his searching looks. His wife's gaze was almost blank, simply drinking in the sight of Uther stumbling backwards when the visitor's face finally became clear.

"Hello, Father." The woman spat, sheathing a blood-drenched sword. "Don't bother calling for reinforcements; those I haven't killed have been barred by some rather unfortunate ground collapses."

"N-no-!" The king stammered- and for the very first time, Merlin saw Uther Pendragon afraid. "It can't be-!"

"Father…?" Arthur queried, looking back and forth between his crumbling parent, the blonde woman, and Morgana. He hadn't missed what the woman had called Uther, any more than Merlin had. Arthur seemed torn between keeping the new arrival in sight and going to his father's side, and just as he looked about to go to Uther a pale hand grasped his.

"P-please!" The fake Morgana croaked, dropping all pretense of his wife's voice, sounding suddenly rough and raspy. "Protect me!"

Gwen started forward from his side angrily, the sight of Arthur's slavish obedience setting her off, but before she could get there…

"Do not _touch_ him." The woman snarled from her place on what was left of the podium. She raised a long fingered hand and began moving it in slight circles, kneading a ball of fire out of the air she touched. For once, Morgana didn't even notice him stiffening at the familiar spell- one of Nimueh's repertoire- as she was watching the woman with a rapt gaze. The not-Morgana snorted derisively at it, trying to bury her obvious fear.

"He's my man, bitch," She sneered, with a possessive hand on Arthur's arm. "I can do whatever I want to him."

Merlin felt the familiar crackle in his palm, the brewing storm in his gut, but before he could fire off the first spell that came to his head, before the woman could launch her spell or Gwen could release the outraged cry he could feel building…

"And he's _our_ brother, so back off!"

The entire room turned to Morgana with jaws dropped. For a moment, his usually bold wife looked almost embarrassed under all the scrutiny, before she focused on him resignedly, took a deep breath, and said; "Arthur is my brother, Merlin."

…

"W-_what?"_

Before she could reply; another, smaller, blast pierced the stunned silence, as the woman used everyone's distraction to throw the fireball. It spun not towards its original target, but at Uther. With a scream, Arthur dove in front of it-

"_Forbearne yfel!"_

The spell flew from his lips instinctively, sprouting a wall of searing fire in-between the two. The matching elemental magic consumed each other, the superior size of his redistributing her magic into itself harmlessly, before he allowed the whole thing to fizzle out anti-climactically. Arthur looked at him in shock, and perhaps something approaching gratitude, but Merlin was more interested in the king's reaction.

Uther's face was one of horror, like a mouse looking at the cat it had only just realized was stalking it. Merlin broke his gaze; just looking at him was enough to make him feel the old frost creeping in, the urge to crush his foes that had ended Nimueh and Hengist and so many others. He didn't know how Uther would survive if he let it in. Eyes passing over his mother's proud gaze, and Gwen's thankful but scared eyes, he finally settled on the woman cocking her head oddly at him.

"My name is Morgause." She began slowly, answering his unspoken question. "I… thank you, Merlin. Arthur was not my intended target."

Merlin remained silent, noting how quiet overall the room had become. Clearly, this 'Morgause' and her knights had finished off all of the guard present. His brow furrowed at her; she looked like someone familiar…

"…She's my sister, Merlin." Morgana said carefully, into the shell of his ear, hands gliding into place against his arm. "And Mordred's mother."

He snapped his head back to Morgause immediately, watching the way she lifted her head proudly at the name, the way her dark eyes watched him with the same slight detachment that the little Druid boy had. Morgause spared a dark glance at Uther, before smiling slightly and offering her thanks for rescuing her son.

"Morded?" Gwen asked, stepping up beside Hunith and them, forming a wall behind the Pendragons. Morgause's knights spread out, beginning to form a loose circle against the walls.

"The Druid boy…?" Arthur said, sounding more like himself than he had in a long while.

"The one you saved from the axe, yes." Morgause said to him, her smile growing wider as she walked down the steps. "_Thank you._ Guinevere, Merlin, and, of course, my brother; thank you all for saving my son."

Arthur reeled, stepping back into the false Morgana's grasp, limbs that weren't her own curling greedily around him from behind; half embracing him, half maneuvering him in front of her as a human shield. Morgause's large eyes narrowed dangerously at that, flickered over to Uther's pallid face and the tears beginning to fall, and it suddenly hit Merlin what this meant.

_Oh dear Gods…_

"She's your daughter."

Uther did not look at him, even when he spoke. Merlin could see the shame bearing down on his shoulders, and for once found himself unmoved.

"You tried to marry your _daughter_ to your _son_... why?" Merlin continued, stepping forward threateningly. Still, Uther would not budge, and that was when the frost hardened into solid ice.

"_**TELL ME WHY!"**_

And that was when Uther screamed.

Merlin couldn't stop his flinch, nor could anyone else in the room. The great Uther Pendragon dissolved in front of them, clutching his head, beating it, pulling at his hair and knocking off his crown. He made unintelligible noises, backing away from the sight of Morgause, the only one in the room remaining impassive in the face of… whatever this was.

Feeling her shudder before it even came, Merlin pulled Morgana into himself, as if he could shield her from the mad screams of the man, the monster, who it seems had given her life.

"Y-you don't know what it's _like!"_ Uther exhaled finally, his crazed and imploring eyes darting from Arthur's horror to Morgause's sneer to both Morgana's disgust. For whatever reason, he then chose to speak directly to Merlin. "Magic is everywhere; even in my son's servant, it's _everywhere!_ I-I can't even _see_ it anymore, much less get _rid_ of it!"

He broke off into harsh laughter, almost giggling. Morgana buried herself further into his chest, as if she could block out the sight, all that dark resolution he had felt earlier in her swaying under the disturbing atmosphere emanating from Uther. It was as if he wasn't even a man anymore, as if he was something terrible and looming, and utterly inhuman. Some corner of Merlin thought it ironic that facing Nimueh was the last time he had felt something like this.

"Morgana- she won't _listen,_ don't you understand?" Uther shouted at him. "I _had _to do something to get her in line, she won't- she won't obey, fall in step like a good woman; she actually _sympathizes _with…" The king cut himself off with a gasp, finally meeting eyes with the anxious glare peeking out from under Merlin's arm. "But that means- no, you _can't_ be-"

It took Merlin a second to understand what Uther was driving at, but as usual Morgana arrived there sooner. Pulling her resolve back together, she extended the arm that had been crushing him to her, and lit a fire in her palm with a rather vicious smile.

"Yes, _Father._" She growled. "You've given birth to _two_ sorceresses."

Watching Uther's terror grow, seeing the way Morgana took pleasure in it and Morgause mirrored her, Merlin could think only one thing.

_It shouldn't feel this good to scare a man._

###

Morgana had never been happier.

Merlin was safe, along with dear Hunith. He was by her side once more, and they were at last free to be out in the open. Gwen had accepted her again, as if her magic was nothing to be scared of. She had a _sister,_ and a brother, and once this was over they could all start again as a family. There would be nothing to fear, once they dethroned Uther Pendragon.

"You…" Arthur began shakily from where he stood some distance away from Uther, the Troll in her shape still wrapped around him like a foul snake. The damn thing was next on her list, that was for sure. "…You were unfaithful to my mother?"

Morgana hated the twinge of sympathy she felt for the old bastard, the devastation growing in his pale eyes as he turned them on his son.

"I-I-I- she was always _looking_ at him!" He spat, looking past her imposter as if she wasn't even there. She wondered if he'd even noticed there were two of her. "Didn't mind telling me that they loved each other once, either! I couldn't-" Uther broke off, hanging his head almost guiltily. "Vivianne was in the same boat. She was the only one who understood what it was like to fear that you would lose the one you loved, that they were already…"

"Making time to lay together, the way the two of you were?" Her sister said wryly. Morgana shut her eyes, taking comfort in Merlin's tightening hold. It hurt to think of her mother betraying her fath- _Gorlois_ like that. It hurt that the man who raised her wasn't the man who sired her, especially now, when she needed his guidance now more than ever.

"_Morgana?"_ Her love whispered to her, only the barest tinges of that worrying anger in his magic. She almost laughed; even in the middle of all this, his top concern was making sure she was alright. Sighing, she turned to look up at him tensely.

"_I-I don't think I can ever forgive Uther… for taking my father away from me."_

Something odd happened, then. For a split second, while everyone was focused on Uther's confession and Arthur's horror, she was the only one looking at him. By now, she expected her saying something like that to pull some empathy from him, that special sorrow he saved only for her; and a slight glint of determination, the first stirrings of an impending pep-talk. Morgana was rather disturbed to see those things replaced by the same blank fury she'd seen only once before, to see his eyes flicker to Uther with dark promise.

He looked like a man about to take revenge.

Then, why was she complaining? Wasn't this what she wanted? For Merlin to finally see what a worthless cretin Uther Pendragon was, to stop holding that privileged power of his back? Yet, looking at him now, seeing the light gone out of his eyes… it hurt.

"How _could_ you?" Arthur shouted, shrugging off the Troll's annoyed attempts to pull him towards the exit; the pain on his face was heart-wrenching. "She was my _mother, _she loved you, and you- this wasn't even a one-time thing, was it? How long was it going on, Father?"

Uther gaped impotently, as if lost for words, when Morgause chimed in.

"Oh, that's not the worst of it." She said with more than a little bite. Her clever brown eyes, dancing with amusement, found hers across the room. "Do you want to tell him how he was born, sister, or should I?"

Morgana felt a grin split her face when Uther yelled wordlessly at that. She opened her mouth, looking to Arthur to finally tell him the truth that had been kept from him for so long, when a slight shift in Merlin's magic brought her up short. Staring up at him, somber and resigned, she understood then that of all of them, he had been the first to find out about this. Of all of them, he deserved the chance to tell her brother to truth about _something._

"Arthur, you…" He broke off for a second, swallowed, and continued with a firmer voice. "Your mother was barren. In order to conceive, your parents enlisted the help of magic-"

"_N-no."_ Arthur said in a horrified whisper; the Troll's attempts at getting him to budge were having next to no effect, and from the looks of it she was beginning to get impatient.

"No!" Uther exclaimed, his hands cradling his head pathetically.

"-which came at a terrible price." Merlin said in a rush, determined not to falter in the face of Arthur's horror. "…Your mother's life, to be exact."

You could have heard pin drop, for all the noise that followed.

"I didn't know, _I didn't know, Arthur, I-"_ Uther babbled suddenly, moving closer. Arthur glared at him warningly, and her heart ached at the look in his eyes, somewhere between unending fury and overwhelming guilt. _No surprise there, he just found out his life cost his mother her own…_

Arthur had always carried the weight of Queen Ygraine's death on his shoulders, for her having died in child birth. She shared a worried look with Merlin, watching the same thought play on his sculpted features; what would it do to the prince, to know the very life in his body was stolen from his mother?

Uther swallowed and stepped forward again, reaching out, when suddenly the hand behind his son sprung a dagger and pressed it into Arthur's throat.

"**OH MY **_**GOD!"**_ The Troll shouted, popping its stolen face up over Arthur's broad shoulder. "How long does it take you idiots to air your dirty laundry, anyway?"

"Unhand him!" Gwen finally spoke up, stepping forward with a frankly scary grace that she'd never seen in her best friend before. "I swear, if you hurt _one hair-"_

The Troll seemed about to lob an insult at Gwen, when she suddenly sniffed the air like a dog before turned her head to let out a roar, blasting the two Knights of Medhir that had been approaching into the rubble.

"Don't even try it, girlie!" It shouted, darting a glare at Morgause and pushing the blade into Arthur hard enough to draw blood. She and her sister both cursed, hoping the creature hadn't noticed the Knights of Medhir around her slowly closing in. Arthur just continued to wear the drunken smile he had borne the moment the Troll had spoken; the foul enchantment seemed to strengthen the more she made her presence known to him.

"All this talk, eh, just to get it through your heads what a lout this man is?" The Troll ranted, smirking ridiculously. Morgana scowled briefly at that; she would never wear such an absurd expression! It met her gaze with a mirror of her eyes. "I knew Uther was trouble from the first moment I realized I didn't even have to imitate you to get a pass from him; I just had to _obey_ him. I bet I've made him happier in the last day than you have in your _entire damn life, _ugly girl."

Morgana was forced to break the standoff with her doppelganger to watch Uther, collapsing to his knees, muttering "no…no…" under his breath. Served him right, the worthless excuse for a…

"**HEY!"** The Troll shouted, drawing a yell from Arthur with an even deeper cut. "What're you bleedin' idiots lookin' at him for? _I'm the troll princess of Camelot! I ruined all of your lives! __**Pay attention to me, GODDAMIT!"**_

Its eyes glowing an eerie scarlet, the Troll let out a harsh scream, and the floor began to quake beneath them. The ground between them separated in half, with their side tilting up diagonally, to send them sliding down at a fast rate into the now exposed earth beneath the castle. With a firm cry Gwen, who had been standing just on the Troll's side, fell flat on her stomach and shot her hands out towards them. Morgana watched with a bittersweet smile as Gwen just managed to catch Hunith by the sandal, and the two of them caught her eyes. The last thing she saw, before the remaining four of them toppled over the jagged cliff face, was their scared eyes growing wide.

…

And then they were falling.

She and Merlin, Uther and her sister, surrounded by four of the six undead knights and all the poor guards they'd had to kill, and the dust and the dirt rushing up to meet them. Amongst the rain of corpses, she somehow found him, found her Merlin, tugging him into her arms for one last embrace, one final kiss. In this moment, she was not aware of the Troll's laughter topside, of Arthur's terrified shout for his Guinevere, who was screaming along with Hunith for them.

Somewhere around them, Morgause was falling, eyes searching relentlessly for her prey even in the face of death.

Somewhere below them, Uther was falling, face quiet and almost peaceful as he descended, looking up at his lost daughters.

Somewhere inside them, the dragon was calling, monstrous greed reaching to their very souls.

But right now, all Merlin and Morgana knew was that they had again found peace in each others arms.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_**CRASH!**_

###

**D:**

**I promise I wasn't kidding about that happy ending. :/**

**Yay, another set-up chapter! Ooh, with an ensemble cast and infodumps about stuff we already know; my favorite two things to write! That was sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell. And now, this is the part where I throw myself a pity party over a chapter that's probably not half as bad as it seems from this end. *mournful confetti toss***

**Also, went back and redid the chapter titles for "Ebb and Flow"; it was a flimsy reason to have those chapters be a two-parter, and by making the finale the only multi-parter it makes things tighter(ish), and more, ah, aesthetically appealing? Hush, gentle reader; I'm the author, I get to nitpick. b(~_^)d**

**5-6 chapters to go! (Chug, chug, chug!)**


	31. House of Cards pt2

"_**GUINEVERE!"**_

She was hanging over the edge.

_His Guinevere_ was hanging over the edge!

"A-Arthur-!" He heard he call haltingly over her shoulder, struggling to lift someone. "Help-!"

A burst of adrenaline coursed through Arthur's body, his legs flexing in anticipation of running to her, arms tensing as if already wrapping around those hips and pulling her to safety. Alive, she was alive and okay, they would be fine, if he could just _get to her_ _nowgonowloveherSAVEHER__**NOW**__-_

The prince broke into a mad sprint, stumbling over cracks and rubble, the chains that bound him inside unable to even catch up; until, before he could get even halfway there…

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

He froze mid-step, his body locked up, and his racing thoughts were shackled as firmly as ever. No amount of thrashing inside was helping, not when _she_ was talking; that scintillating growl. Footsteps sent deadening waves through him as she approached, and came around to look him in the eye, making him flush and duck his head under her censuring gaze.

"You can't leave me." His wife snarled beautifully, raising a delicate hand to grasp the scruff of his neck not-so-delicately. "You're _mine,_ boy; my own pet king, to rule the lands at my whim."

"Y-yes…" Arthur whimpered, smiling at her, his light, his love, her kind sneer filling his vision until he could see naught but her. Morga- no, not Morgana. A Troll, yes, his lovely troll… she was all that mattered… he had to know what to call her. "W-what is your name?"

His wife let out a fresh bark of laughter. "Trolls have no need of names."

"Then what do I call you?" He whispered brokenly; she had to have a name, a word he could repeat to himself; he would say it when she wasn't there, to remind himself of her, oh _please-_

"You can address me as… _my queen."_ She said at last, with a grin that he slowly returned.

Yes, Queen… it fit her. His Queen.

"ARTHUR-!"

_NO._

Arthur shook his head, reeling as if a cannon had gone off in his mind. Where had that come from? His Queen frowned and grabbed his head with both hands, trying to maintain eye contact, but for some reason his body tried to get away, his gaze shot away from her face and over her shoulder… there was a small shape over the cracked cliff face, and if the situation were less dire he would laugh at the cute little grunts she was making, trying to pull up-

_Hunith. She's trying to pull up Hunith, because Merlin and your new sisters and your damn father just fell down that hole… they could be dead, Guinevere's going to _fall, _and you're worried about what to _call_ this thing?_

"Pet, look at me." His Queen crooned, commanded, coaxed, oh he needed her-

"Arthur, fight it!" The shape- the voice- she was about to fall- _Guinevere-!_

"Stay. With. _Me."_ Said his Qu- no, the _Troll_ with his _sisters_ face; for that a brief second the clouds finally parted, and Arthur Pendragon did the one thing he'd been aching to do since the second he had been enchanted.

_**SMACK!**_

The monster went down squealing, her fake face seeming to crack like glass from the force of his gauntleted blow. And Arthur was running again, tripping and rolling over the twitching corpses of the black knights she had felled, grinning inside because he was _too fast_ for the horror and the guilt and the slavery to catch him again.

Hunith's fingers slipped on the jagged rock, and her efforts to pull herself up with her free hand failed again. With a cry that burned itself into his memory, Merlin's mother descended, and pulled his beloved over the edge with her.

His head was pounding, the chains were coming to eat him again, Arthur the fake was locking swords with him, the Troll was shouting an incantation to make the earth under him spike up and slice through his shoes and all of it was _meaningless_ because nothing- _nothing-_ would stop him from getting to her.

A roar warned him (_Go back to her!) _of the blast of force tearing towards him, just in time _(You love her!) _to jump and feel the edge of it tear the cloth and chainmail _(There is no Guinevere!)_ off his back, and he landed on the edge, arm out, fingers flailing, oh please, _(She's dead!) oh please!_

With an anti-climactic snag, Arthur just barely caught the tips of Guinevere's fingers; and at her touch, the war inside him simply ended with a gasp. Dangling below him, she made sure the distraught Hunith was still hanging on to her other hand, before those gorgeous eyes rose to meet his in awe.

Arthur smirked down at her with a cockiness he did not feel.

"Don't worry. I've got you."

Guinevere swallowed and nodded, smiling up at him knowingly.

"There was never a doubt in my mind."

###

Gwen's arms were screaming.

Below her, Hunith flailed, gripping at her raw bicep with both hands, eyes darting around the walls of the dark hole that had consumed her son and daughter-in-law. She wasn't a heavy woman, and Gwen wasn't weak, but between them the handmaiden didn't think she could take much more.

Above her, her Arthur feigned that endearing fearlessness of his. She watched sweat slide down a blade of his hair- she had always loved his hair- as he struggled to keep his tenuous grasp on her fingertips, the yawning abyss below reflected in his scared eyes. With an encouraging smile he finally managed to get his other arm over the edge, correcting his grip. He let out a pained cry as, with Herculean effort, he began lifting the both of them up, inch by careful inch.

The whole time, she kept her eyes on his, smiling proudly. He was beating the spell, he was beating _gravity…_ "I always thought there was nothing you couldn't do."

Arthur laughed harshly in between agonized grunts. "W-well, you know how much I love surprising you."

**STOMP.**

**STOMP.**

**STOMP.**

"_Oho!_ Well this is heroic, innit it?"

Gwen watched Arthur see her growing terror, as a massive shape loomed above them in a torn dress. The last remains of the Morgana visage, literal shards of her eye or lips or skin tone, fell like leaves from its form, revealing bloated green skin and a vicious bladed grin. Directing her eyes away from the Troll- _Oh, was it ever a Troll-_ Gwen looked Arthur straight in the eye and begged him not to turn his head.

"Not surprised my illusion failed after a blow like that; nice shot, for a human." It grunted thuggishly, rolling its nonexistent neck to create ominous cracking noises. "To be true wit' you, I'm more impressed at you holding off my enchantment like this. _Of course,_ that doesn't mean it was **BROKEN!**"

At that last word, the Troll gleefully brought a hooved foot down on Arthur's bleeding back. Gwen and Hunith screamed for him as Arthur ground his teeth together, stubbornly trapping the sound of his anguish. Gwen watched the storm play over his face, the tendrils of want and devotion creeping back into his eyes; then beaten back exhaustedly, as he ferociously pulled them further up.

"Stupid ugly human!" It shouted, pounding at his back with gusto. "I would've let you rule with me; now I'll just kill you and take over **MYSELF!**"

At the last, especially hard stomp, Arthur finally screamed and almost dropped them. Gwen desperately clung to his hand, whispering senselessly up at his tormented face. Above him, the Troll seemed to finally tire, but the considering look on its face made her stomach drop.

"Heh, _actually…_ I've got a better idea, don't I?" It crooned sickeningly, suddenly down on its stubby hands and knees to whisper into his ear. "Arthur, my love; I want you to drop her."

Gwen gaped, watching Arthur close his eyes and groan as if somewhere between pain and pleasure. When he opened them, she could see less of himself. No, he wouldn't…

"Do it, Arthur." The Troll sneered, Arthur's torn eyes darting between the two of them. "She's a traitor and my enemy… and you would do anything for me, wouldn't you dear? _So let her fall."_

"Arthur, this isn't you!" Hunith shouted up from below pleadingly.

"I- I-" Arthur sobbed, his muscles looking about to burst out of his arm, and she could see that it wasn't because of the struggle to hold them up anymore. He was fighting not to let go. For the very first time in her life, Gwen watched horrified as her Arthur began to cry, hot tears splashing down onto her. "_Please, no…"_

"Kill her, Arthur," The Troll drawled, thick fingers in his hair. "…and I'll give you _such_ a big reward."

And its black tongue darted out and licked him.

And Gwen had finally had enough.

She let out an animalistic snarl, and felt her fear sublimate into more rage- more _strength-_ than she'd ever felt in her life. With a furious cry, she single-handedly pulled herself all the way up to Arthur's shocked face, and claimed his lips for her own.

###

For the rest of his life, Arthur would never know what exactly happened in that moment.

Before, he felt like he was fading away. Its horrid voice, the stench, its slimy tongue; all conspired to rob him of himself more and more, and the mask growing over his face buried him again. He didn't know how much longer he could hold on, he didn't know how to _not_ drop her anymore, _he was going to kill her and he was going to watch her fall-_

And then, just like always, Guinevere had surprised him.

The second her possessive kiss reached him, he was drowned in white-hot fire. The chains, the mask, the entire fake identity that the creature had built for him; in an instant, they were all incinerated. As he molded his lips against hers passionately, he opened his eyes to met her own, and they smiled hopefully against each other's mouths. Though he did not now it now, in the days to come he would learn of the one and only surefire way to break an enchantment, and feel his heart skip a beat.

True love's kiss.

"Oh, get the hell away from 'em!"

Guinevere snarled as the Troll- the fat, bloody bastard _Troll-_ reached down to slap her with a hand like a steak. The sting of skin on skin rang out harshly in the gaping hole, and with an angry scream Arthur lunged to the side and bit down as hard as he could on the first thing he found. The Troll squealed again, as Arthur shook his head like a dog, drawing foul-tasting blood from it bulbous nose until finally it broke away and scrambled out of his sight, yelling curses.

With a final scream of effort, his entire body nearly tearing with exertion, Arthur swung Hunith and Guinevere up and rolling onto the ledge beside him in a heap. He gasped, trying to stumble to his feet to go to her but instead collapsing back onto his back, eyes locked on her shaking form. As Guinevere began to hold herself up, the ground to shook, and Arthur could do nothing but watch and scream as the Troll ran at her with its tusks ready to gore her, like a mad bull.

"GUINEVERE, RUN!" He cried; the Troll was too fast, and its charge had already reached her, and-!

And that was when Guinevere shot to her feet in a swirl of fabrics, whirling out of the path of danger, and with a lethal scream swung a discarded sword up with both hands…

…chopping the Troll's head clean off as it passed.

Three pairs of stunned eyes watched the head spin through the air and land with a splat on the windowsill, and then turned to follow the downed body slide a trail of gore, past Hunith, until it hit the wall unceremoniously.

For a moment, there was only silence.

And then, half mad with exhaustion and relief, all three of them burst into laughter. Hunith collapsed onto her back tiredly, howling with laughter that sounded more like sobs, while Guinevere dropped her borrowed weapon as she staggered across the room, to collapse giggling on top of him.

"I-I didn't know you were such a capable swordswoman." Arthur chortled lovingly, as her eager lips kissed away the tear tracks on his bruised face.

"Blacksmith's daughter, remember?" She tittered, reading his mind and manually putting his arms around her, as he couldn't lift them. "Besides, I don't just ogle you working up a sweat when I'm watching you practice, you know. Though that's very nice."

Arthur laughed, burying his face in her curls, tears blurring his vision once more.

"I'm so, _so_ sorry, I didn't- _I'm so sorry-!"_

A small finger pressed against his cracked lips. "Hush, my Arthur. It wasn't you."

"I almost- _I almost-_ if it weren't for you-"

Guinevere grinned, with a kind of true beauty that the Troll's illusions and enchantments could never match, and pecked him promisingly on the nose. "Well, you'll never have to know what would happen if not for me, will you?" She sobered slightly. "Because, my lord, I'm afraid you're stuck with me for good."

Arthur stared at her, in something like wonder, as it suddenly hit him for the first time what a life with her would mean. And he could see his throne room in rubble, and Hunith crawling despondently over to the edge where their family had fallen, and he knew now that the two most important men in his life were far more deceptive and dangerous than he had ever imagined, but…

But…

His queen, his true queen, was with him. And somehow everything was going to be okay.

"Is that a promise?" Arthur said roguishly.

"Oh my, yes." Their lips met forcefully, and the very little strength left in their bodies went to each other. Arthur closed his eyes and smiled blissfully; he was home.

…

"…Sire?"

Not breaking contact with Guinevere's lips, he opened his eyes to watch a very confused Sir Leon throwing off the rubble covering him. He yawned and took in the chaos with wide eyes.

"…Oh, blast, what have I missed this time?"

###

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Morgana groaned as the sound of falling water reached her in the dark. She cursed colorfully when awareness- and a headache the size of the Great Dragon- finally met her.

"Watch your language, child."

Grey-green eyes snapped open at the all-too familiar voice, and found Uther Pendragon staring down at her affectionately. Somehow that was even worse than any other look he could have had in his eye. She had plotted his downfall; he should not be smiling at her like that.

"My dear, I'm so relieved to see you awake." He said cordially, as if they were discussing dinner. Morgana fearfully looked around, trying to see beyond the darkness around them and the pounding of the fresh wound on her head. She could now see that they were in a cave of some sort, cavernous walls extending forever and the dripping tips of stalactites all she could make out of the ceiling.

Also, she was being carried in her father's arms.

"U-unhand me!" The lady cried, her skin crawling at his touch. Uther just gave a long-suffering smile and tightened his grip around her, her struggles useless against his strength and her weakness, her always tumultuous magic slipping out of her grasp every time she tried to focus on it.

"Now, now, Morgana, don't worry," The mad king, her disgusting sire, said jovially, seemingly totally unaware of their surroundings. "The rest of them are gone now… it's just us. We're safe here."

Morgana paled. No, it couldn't be… "W-where is Merlin? And my sister?"

Uther's smile tightened horribly as he walked, but far from replying, the king just kept staring ahead sightlessly. Morgana felt her old panic rise with newfound terror. Her shaking fingers wrapped hard around his neck and pulled him close to her snarl.

"TELL ME, GODDAMN YOU!"

Uther simply laughed in her face, still smiling adoringly at her.

"I left the sorcerers where they belong… _in the dirt_."

Morgana shrunk back away from him, tears springing to her eyes. "_No…_"

"Oh, don't cry, child!" He said with a mad grin. "We're going to where _we_ belong. And your new mother is so excited to finally meet you."

When she only gaped up at him, Uther just laughed and strode on, continuing to talk excitedly.

"Oh yes, my Ygraine… we're finally coming home to you."

And if she closed her eyes, Morgana thought she could hear peals of dry laughter in the dark.

###

**:o**

**Shortest chapter in a long while, but there are a few reasons for that. One, it makes everything tighter, which is definitely one of my goals as a writer because in case you haven't noticed, I have brevity issues (-.-). Two, with everything about to go down I thought it best to make this chapter all about Arwen and the Troll, since the focus is going to shift a bit from them after this. And three, shorter chapters are less daunting to write, which means I may just be able to update faster, like in this instance. So, depending on how it goes, this may be the new normal size till the end, and hopefully the lack of crazy length will be made up for by faster uploading. :/  
**

**Anyway, this was some of the most fun I've ever had writing! I really hoped you all enjoyed it too, and I hope you appreciated the bit of happiness there at the long awaited end of Trollgate. It's all you're getting till the end...**

**...because I **_**really**_** like cliffhangers. : }**

**3-4 chapters to go! (I hope you have a designated driver…)**


	32. House of Cards pt3

"Mor-Morgause."

The woman in question groaned and shook her head, like a child protesting the sun.

Merlin rolled his eyes, the fingers that searched for a pulse pressing harder.

"Mor_gause_!"

With a shuddering gasp, his new sister-in-law finally awoke. Glittering brown eyes darted around the dark and the rubble, their dark promise seeming to have 'Uther' written all over them, before finally focusing in on him. Her brow furrowed, in a way he found far too reminiscent of his wife.

"…Where is Morgana?" She asked seriously.

Merlin just shook his head, gesturing around them. Helping her sit up with a hiss of pain, he watched her go through the same flurry of emotions he had upon awakening. The dawning horror as she saw the vast underground cave they had fallen in, and the tiny pinprick of light above that was the throne room. The fresh plume of relief, the joy to be alive, followed by the utter terror that sat in when she realized that both Morgana and Uther really were nowhere to be found.

Eying the large clearing they sat in, in the midst of the corpses and debris, Morgause gave him an impressed look. "Excellent shield, Merlin; probably saved all our lives."

Merlin nodded, too hurt and scared to bother with humility. "It was the best I could do before we hit the ground."

An odd silent moment passed, before with the clinking of her ruined armor she attempted to shoot to her feet. Merlin caught her before she fell, feeling the need to lift his eyes skyward again at her insufferable growl of protest.

"Release me!" She demanded. "I do not require assistance!"

Gods, she really was Arthur's sister.

"Your leg was broken in five places." Merlin said impatiently down at her. "I healed it as best I could, but you still can't stand on it much."

Watching her grumble annoyingly to herself, Merlin again wished Morgana was there. He would have been able to heal any wound on her body in no time at all; his magic didn't have the same limits holding it back when it came to her. Or, maybe _he_ didn't.

_What a load of horse dung!_ He snarled in his mind, surprising himself with all the venom in his thoughts. _None of this would have happened, none of it at all, if you had just finally _put her first,_ Merlin!_

Images tumbled inside him; the ring, the band, the honeymoon; his vows, to love and cherish and most of all to _protect._ Now she was gone, somewhere, possibly with Uther _bloody_ Pendragon and possibly too injured to fight back… she had counted on him, hadn't she? And what had he ever done for her?

"What kind of husband can't even make his own wife happy?"

"…From what I've seen, you make Morgana _very _happy."

Merlin drew up in surprise, looking down to meet Morgause's contemplative gaze, before finally realizing what he had said out loud. Souring, he swallowed and swept his eyes around the massive, rocky expanse stretching out in all directions.

"They could be anywhere…" He muttered. Morgause shifted closer on his supportive arm, grasping his torn tunic with one hand to better support her faulty leg. Merlin eyed the long fingers of her hand as they extended towards the ground.

"_**Show me." **_She commanded imperiously, and before Merlin could ask what she thought she was doing, her eyes shone burnt amber, darker than her sisters' lovely shade. There was a short rumble, subsiding into silence as quickly as it began, and suddenly two silhouettes were press into the earth around them. It barely took him half a second to recognize his wife's soft curves, before the larger form vanished and was replaced by hand and knee shapes, followed by large footprints.

"Uther; getting to his feet." Morgause spat, unnecessarily. Merlin was perfectly capable of following what was going on, thank you very much.

Small trenches appeared next to Morgana's image, like forearms digging into the ground, before she disappeared completely. Uther's footsteps sunk a bit further into the ground, as if suddenly heavier, and Merlin ground his teeth together almost hard enough to crack them. Morgana was being carried away from them, by the one man in the world she didn't want to be held by.

For a moment, the footsteps turned towards where the two of them had laid and lingered, as if in thought. Then, they did an about-face and began plodding with purpose down a particularly large cavern.

"He left us to die." Morgause said after a beat, her short laugh echoing in the dark. Merlin grimaced down at her; he knew that laugh. It was the same one Morgana used, every time Uther proved there was no end to his depravity. She snapped her head up to his. "We must pursue. Please, assist me."

Merlin's addled head almost wanted to protest, just to see what her reaction would be to someone ignoring her high-and-mighty orders, before he was assaulted back to his senses by the image of his unconscious wife being hauled through the dark by the mad king. The damn tyrant he never should have let near her again…

Without a word, Merlin tightened his grip around her shoulders and they began their trek in silence, following the ghostly footprints. He didn't know how long they went without speaking, both eyes focused with murderous intent on the shifting ground in front of them, but eventually he began to notice the appearance of wet spots in their line of sight. It took one surprised glance up at him from Morgause for Merlin to realize they were his own tears.

Her brow furrowed again, and it was so much like the one woman he needed more than anything right now that his remaining defenses shattered like glass.

"I should have done more." Merlin said, cringing at how broken he sounded, at the feel of hot wetness making tracks down the dirt and blood on his face. "You were wrong, I-I didn't make her happy at all."

"But of course you did!" She was saying earnestly. "You should see the way she speaks of you; her entire body lights up!"

Merlin shook his head, clearing his throat in an effort to stem his embarrassment, and continued them forward. Morgause did not seem willing to drop it, however.

"I know what happiness looks like, Merlin…" She mumbled. "And she wears it like a badge on her heart; or a shield on her arm, if she thinks you threatened. It's impressive, the way she guarded any information about you, even when I gained her trust… your safety is her foremost priority."

Merlin snapped.

"But _hers_ isn't _mine!"_ He shouted, stopping and turning to glare down at her surprised face. "It's always been about Arthur, did you know that? Destiny and freedom and-and; I don't know, changing the world kindly? I-I wanted to beat Uther, by proving him wrong! Dethrone him without violence! But the whole time, she was suffering and fearful and I just-just _yelled_ at her!"

Morgause just gaped at him, and with a frustrated sigh he pulled her along again forcefully. She didn't understand, of course, didn't know him well enough to know that _this is what he always did._ Merlin the boy sorcerer, pretending everything was fine and manageable while Uther lost his mind further, and Gaius faded with each passing day, and his beautiful Morgana was wound further and further up in her own fear for him. He could have stopped _all_ of this, had he just stopped being afraid of himself and _listened to her._

"…Do you wish to kill Uther?"

Merlin shot her a sideways glare. "It always comes down to that, doesn't it?"

It was all he could say without pouring out the litany of dark thoughts that were now ruling his mind without restraint. Why had it been so easy to see Uther's good points when Arthur was his first priority? Oh, stupid question… the closer he got to Morgana, the more he saw the damage the king wrought up close. The harder it was to escape the terrible fact that _Merlin_ had saved that awful man's life, over and over, brought him back to Morgana to keep hurting her again and again…

Morgause gave him a small, tight smile. "You _do,_ don't you, my brother?"

Merlin kept his eyes firmly ahead. "…He abandoned you both."

Morgause swallowed and nodded, skipping briefly over a crag.

"Deprived Arthur of his sisters… and then tried to _marry_ his children together." He felt his teeth bare and his throat growl, feral and unlike himself. "He would have Morgana bound to her own brother for the rest of her life, just to keep her away from people like me."

"Uther Pendragon's idea of love is bondage; it is no surprise he could think of something so vile." Morgause mused beside him, soothingly. "...Except, of course, when it comes to the bastard daughter who threatened his 'great love'. Then he can't let her go fast enough."

Merlin eyed her bitter face cautiously, and another moment passed in the dark, with only the click of their footfalls accompanying them.

"I don't blame you." Morgause said finally. At his questioning look, she continued. "For trying to talk my sister down, I mean. My husband and I oftentimes had similar conversations with Mordred… it is easy for the scared to wish their fears simply gone, just as it is easy for the complacent to forget what being truly frightened feels like."

Merlin swallowed guiltily. _Complacent._ How perfectly true of him.

"Still, we wanted better for our little boy, as you did Morgana. To believe we all live in a basically good world, and Uther is only a brief aberration in it." Her dark eyes met his at last. "But the world is a terrible place, and thinking otherwise has only gotten my child angry and grieving, and my husband… _Gods,_ I don't even know what they did with Cerdan's _body!"_

"He was burned…" Merlin muttered, remembering the standard protocol in Camelot; purge all traces of magic, even the corpses of its practitioners. Morgause fell silent beside him again, mulling that over, and Merlin felt the sudden urge to confess to this strange woman; his substitute Morgana for this dark time.

"I've been afraid." He said haltingly. "…Scared of my own power, and the idea that I would have to use it to commit terrible sins. Serving Arthur, and the future he could bring… that was my way of avoiding taking responsibility. And the woman I love more than anything has suffered for it."

He shook the hair out of his face, eyes falling with shame.

"Suffered _endlessly."_

A shaking hand reached up to grasp his companionably, and he raised his gaze to take in Morgause's dark, encouraging smile.

"Then, together, let us fix our mistakes." Morgause promised. "Will you help me make the world a better place, brother?"

Merlin stopped dead, staring down at her for only a moment, before nodding somberly.

"For her, I would do anything."

###

Morgana could taste the beast's greed in the air.

It was ever present; suffocating her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck and twisting her gut into odd shapes. It made her shiver, and when Uther held her closer to his bleeding chest she shivered even more.

"I'm sorry, child." He said soothingly, utterly dissonant. "We'll be warm soon, I promise."

"Oh, I know we will." Morgana's sarcastically sweet smile turned sour. "That's because we'll be _cooked alive,_ you lunatic!"

Uther just sighed and shook his head, ducking his head under a stalagmite and muttering something about teenage rebellion. Morgana would chop his head off for that, if she wasn't so unsettled by his behavior; and if she could actually move for more than a few seconds. She closed her eyes and tried to will away the pounding agony of the open wound on her head, but it did little good. The pain made it impossible to focus enough to cast magic, or even move her limbs. She was completely at her father's 'tender' mercies.

Uther, himself hobbled by the significant damage to his torso from the fall, finally paused in his suicidal march to peer excitedly down a dark tunnel.

"YGRAINE?" He all but screamed, ignoring Morgana's undignified yelp at the sudden volume. For a long moment, there was naught but the sound of his voice echoed back… and then, _she heard it._

"_Oh, my love."_ A woman's voice, melodic and haunting, trilled from somewhere in the distance, the jagged edges of inhuman magic brushing up against her as they fed into Uther's bleeding ears. "_Faster, please, I've missed you so…_"

"As I have missed you!" He shouted back, grinning manically through raw tears. "Oh, our reunion will be splendid… I have brought my daughter, just as you asked!"

"N-no, Uther, _no!"_ Morgana stumbled over her protests, one eye on the dark as if expecting great scaly death to come roaring out at them at any moment. Her feeble attempts to throw herself out of his grasp only turned his arms into a vice grip, nearly sucking the life out of her.

"_Wonderful, my Uther…"_ The false Ygraine whispered again, a growing undercurrent of maliciousness piercing her. _"She is ever so lovely… I could just _eat her up…"

The terrified noise escaping from her cracked lips went unnoticed by Uther, laughing at the quaint joke as if it wasn't a clear threat to _devour her whole-_ _oh God, it's going to eat me, __**I'll be eaten alive-!**_

"Uther, please!" Morgana tried again, when his determined stagger renewed. "That isn't- I know how much you want it to be her, but I'm sorry, _it's not Ygraine."_

Uther made a derisive noise in his throat.

"Oh, child, would you allow us quiet for naught a minute?" He said, with a long-suffering sigh that scared her more than anything. "Ygraine will make everything better, you'll see. She's already done so much for us."

Morgana's next attempts to get him to see reason died in her throat, and she swallowed their remains along with her fear. Suspicion rose from her lips.

"…What kind of things?"

"Why, she was the one who made me realize the merits of marrying you and Arthur!" He said, joyous at first until his face fell for the first time since she had awoken. "I did not want too… such a horrid thing, but… she convinced me." His pale eyes widened strangely, tears welling up, and his voice become soft and childlike. "Every night, she convinced me; reminded me of past sins to make up for, and of all the things that were out there waiting to hurt you."

Morgana gaped, horrified; remembering the guards' tales of the king's chambers late at night, and the sobbing and the screaming that they heard from inside. It had not been mere madness. It had been _so much worse._

Uther's head bowed, in some unknowable pain. "She made me hurt, sometimes… in here." He rolled his eyes back towards his head. "Or here." The arm holding her spread its hand over his wounded chest. "A-and sometimes… she made me hurt _myself,_ too. Wouldn't stop until I realized she was right… my Ygraine has always been right…"

For the longest moment, as he let himself trail off and stare haunted at the rocks, Morgana just looked at him. And for the first time, for the first time in her very long history of loathing her errant father, allowed herself to see him fully. There were no more walls in this Uther Pendragon, he was open and bare and screaming for help that she didn't know how to give.

Morgana gave a great shuddering gasp when the realization finally hit. Because for all his faults, for all his monstrous crimes and parental failures, this man was perhaps more a victim of the Great Dragon's evil than any of them. He was her father, and he was kept twisted and terrified by an outside force, was attacked in his mind every night with his dead wife used as a weapon against him…

_And all of this… to push me over the edge and kill him._

"Ah, what was I saying?" Uther said suddenly, as if coming out of a trance, looking sheepish for having forgotten.

Reeling, Morgana just shook her head as much as her wound would allow, and gave him a weak smile that she hoped hid her fear. "N-nothing, my lord. Nothing at all."

And they continued, down the gradually sloping tunnel, into an abyss warmed by dragon's breath. She should be happy. After all, even if she was about to die a horrible death… she was taking her worst nightmare with her. Uther would never harm another soul; would _never_ even think of touching her Merlin again. He was safe…

_That is, if he's even alive._ Morgana struck the traitorous thought down with extreme prejudice. Merlin, dead? That was simply unacceptable. She would know if he was gone, she would know in her bones. He would be safe, without her there to bring down chaos on him, as always. Because that was what she had given him, wasn't it? The most gentle man in the world now lived a life full of pain and misery, of fighting and hurting and being egged on to betray all of his principles just to satisfy her selfishness.

_You will be free, my love._ She whispered into the night, fighting to stem her tears. _You will be safe at last, without me._

…

_NO._

Morgana closed her eyes and found the voice, rising up from deep inside, drew strength from it. No, Merlin would _not_ be okay without her; he _loved_ her, he _needed_ her… how could she even think of abandoning him? Of leaving him all alone, with no one to keep the big beautiful moron from beating himself up?

_You are the Lady Morgana… Morgana Pendragon._ She commanded herself. _You will stop feeling sorry for yourself and you will start __**fighting back**__ and you will NOT let the monster win, do you hear me?_

After ages, at last, she found her voice again.

"Do you want to die?" She began softly. Uther stopped dead and looked at her in shock.

"..._What?"_

Morgana looked at him with as much compassion as she could muster. "Do you want to die, my lord? Because that's the only way to see Ygraine again."

Uther shook his head, suddenly frightened of what she was suggesting. "N-no, she's down here, she's right at the end of this-"

"You watched her die." Morgana said, surprised at how reluctant she was to see him in pain. "You held her hand, didn't you; and you watched the light leave her eyes. _She's not down here, Uther."_

Uther made small noises in the back of his throat, shaking all over and trying to back up the hill; with a shout he collapsed back onto the dirt, and Morgana was sent rolling away from him, crying out as she struck her injured head again. Groaning, she just managed to lift her head to watch him.

"My Ygraine… my Ygraine…"

"U-Uther, you have to listen to me." She slurred, her words failing to flow properly under the blood now gathering under her tongue. "She's gone, Uther; your wife is dead and gone, _but I'm not._"

His shocked face snapped sideways to take her in, and she saw her own bruised, pathetic face pleading with him in the reflection of his glassy eyes. She tried in vain to lift her limbs, feeling sluggish and bloated, and so cold… her vision was dimming, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep her eyes open.

"I-I am here for you." She said, and to her shock she realized it wasn't a lie. "I didn't know h-how sick you were, I didn't think to give you a chance, I just… I wanted you gone. But please… I'm a _healer_, I can get you help, _I want to help you, _just…"

Tears poured openly down his face, and down hers. She could hear her own heart slowing, her breathe leaving her; she wanted Merlin to hold her, she wanted Gorlois… she wanted _Uther._

"_Father…_ help me…"

And that was all it took to reach him.

For one brief, shining moment, she saw Uther Pendragon sane once more. Like the hero he had once been, he shrugged off his injuries and sprang to his feet, rushing over to her with eyes full of the kind of real concern she'd always wanted to see in them. They strayed from her only to look back up the slope, to see how far he'd have to carry her back, and then they were looking back to her gently, and his strong arms were hoisting her up.

Even as she screamed with the pain of her injury, even as she remembered the endless list of this man's horrible crimes, all the things he had done to her and could do to her… she wanted this. Just one moment, where she could count on her father. Just one moment.

"_**BASTARD!"**_

And the sword came down.

Morgana screamed silently, watching the light leave Uther's eyes forever, watching her new sister's righteous fury turn to utter horror when she saw, for the first time, that he had been holding her.

Watching Merlin rushing from a bit beyond, beloved face pale and stricken and _so scared._

And she fell back, off the sword that had pierced straight through Uther Pendragon's heart and in to hers, back into his arms, back into her _home__._ He was whispering to her, plea d i n g , _s o b b i n g_ , a n d o h h o w s h e w i s h e d t h a t s h e c o u l d h e a r h i s v o i c e s t i l l …

O h , h o w s h e w i s h e d …

M o r g a n a

w a t c h e d

h e r

h a n d

l i f t ,

w i t h

h e r

l a s t

b r e a t h ,

a n d

s t r o k e d

h i s

h a i r

.

.

.

_M y _

_._

_._

_._

_M e r l_

###

"…Morgana?"

"Morgana, please wake up."

"I-I've made up my mind finally. You were right."

"You were always right, you know. We c-can leave, we can go back to the forest, I promise."

"A boy and a girl… a cat and a dog… I-I'll even let you get me that bird…"

"Oh my love, it'll be _perfect,_ I know it will… s-so… _please…"_

_"…wake up…"_

###

**T_T**

***cautious embrace***

**D-don't worry; there'll be a happy ending, I-I promise. It'll all be fixed in the next 3-4 chapters… (Hey, are you taking a **_**shot**_** over my shoulder?)**


	33. House of Cards pt4

Gaius would know what to do, Merlin thought.

His uncle always knew the best thing to do, always kept his head in times like this.

That's it, he should get Gaius!

No, idiot, that's stupid. _You're_ stupid. Gaius doesn't know what's best when it comes to her, he's said it himself. You're the only one who does right by her… right?

_Then why didn't I ever save her…?_

Stupid. Stupidstupid Merlin. Don't you remember? Gaius is gone, now. And so is she.

…

"If you don't wake up soon, I-I'm going to start drawing on your face." His voice sounded wrong, twisted just slightly, even to his own ears. Merlin distracted himself with his ministrations, the mumbling promises and nonsense words falling like a downpour onto deaf ears, while his hands carefully moved over her wounds, massaged them closed. He'd make her better... they'll be alright…

"M-Merlin…"

The broken sob came from somewhere to his left, and cracked him right down the center.

Slowly, he lifted his head from hers, bloodshot eyes darting out past wild fringe and deep shadow to find her, the other one, the _killer._ Morgause was huddled a few paces from them, frozen in the position she had landed in when her legs had given out. Beside her lay Uther's dead body, the blankness in his eyes Merlin's only comfort. _You'll never hurt her again._ It was a short lived notion; the sword jutting out of the lifeless king reminded Merlin just what his death had cost.

Morgause mouthed wordlessly at him, at her body, silent tears consuming her. She looked like a child. She looked like she needs someone to hold her. He couldn't bring himself to care. So many people he had to care about, taking him away from her so that she could be hurt like this… no more.

_You wanted to 'change the world', Morgause? Well done._

Merlin just narrowed his eyes and turned back to his wife. The last of his magic finally knitted close the opening in her head, just like the wound in her heart earlier, and all that was left to do was to clean her up. Smiling fondly down at her, Merlin made a flourishing gesture over her face, watching the grime and blood vanish without a trace. Her porcelain skin had always glowed, seemingly, even in the blackest night. It was just one of the things about her that never failed to make him swoon like a girl.

A frown tugged at him. Her skin was strangely dull today. Then… did that mean-

_**NO.**_

It meant nothing. Merlin nodded to himself, shook the thought from his head like so many others swirling unbound inside, and pulled back to examine her. It must be the clothes. Merlin had always thought she looked captivating in anything she wore, but the dark cloak and men's clothes were torn and ruined. Totally set off her complexion. She wouldn't like that one bit.

Setting her down carefully, loathing the thought of parting from her, _(I'm her only warmth now…)_ he set about carefully reworking her attire.

"S-stop." Morgause said. Merlin paused as threads lengthened and shortened and reassembled themselves, swallowing down the rage biting at him, before continuing. "Merlin, what do you think you're-?"

"Making her beautiful, what does it look like?" He spat, the glow from his eyes lighting her up beautifully, as he concentrated on filing down rough cotton into silk. "She puts so much work into it, I really should help more… one less thing for her to do when she wakes up."

Silence. Good. Just what he wanted. He was barely staying away from Morgause as it was. Shouldn't lay a hand on her- she wouldn't want her sist- but she doesn't _want_ anything, because the sword went through- _**n-no, shut up!**_

Deep breaths, Merlin, deep breaths.

"Merlin, sh-she's not going to wake." Said her voice, lilting and heavy and so damn sad. As if she had any right… She was coming closer now, and he wished she wouldn't; didn't she know how hard he was fighting? _Doesn't she want to live?_ "I-I'm so sor- _I didn't mean…_

He stiffened when a shaking hand caressed her cold brow.

"I've lost so much already, so many I've loved…" Morgause whispered brokenly. "Oh, _Morgana,_ my sister… _please,_ don't let me hav-"

The sound of his wife's name was what finally broke him.

"_**DON'T YOU SPEAK OF HER!"**_

For the briefest instant, the entire cavern was lit aglow by his eyes, engulfing the traitor, the killer with her shock and her crocodile tears; and then she was _flying_ away from them, screaming as she went. Over the rocks she rolled, Merlin already to his feet and scrambling after her. Somewhere inside, he was aware of what he looked like, eyes so bright they were entirely golden, screaming incoherently, carving deep troughs into the earth with every wild swipe of his arms. He didn't care… _it was too late._ She'd already roused him from his dream.

"_**YOU KILLED HER!"**_

Merlin watched impassively from within, hearing himself repeat those three words over and over, watching Morgause struggle to get away from him as another formless blow tore into her, throwing up blood at him like spilt wine. She was battered. She was screaming.

And he was unaffected.

_Because she's dead._ The realization brought him to a stop at long last, frozen mid-spell. The tears that had dried finally burst through, as the world seemed to lose its spark. _My Morgana is all gone now._

A litany of shuddering words hit his ears, and he looked up in time to see Morgause's shaking form vanish inside a whirlwind. Their eyes met for the last time, and he saw the shame that buried the fear. She would carry that terrible guilt forever… just as he would. Perhaps that was enough.

Merlin allowed his heavy arms to fall limp at his sides, and let Morgause go.

He could always find her if he changed his mind… not that she mattered to him, now.

Nothing mattered to him anymore.

"Oh, my darling…" Merlin whispered through the tears that wouldn't stop, falling to his knees at Morgana's side, watching fresh droplets fall onto pure white silk. It was a dress she'd be proud to wear, he thought; flowing and beautiful, though perhaps a little more conservative than she would have liked. It was almost enough to make her skin shine again. She looked perfect.

She looked like a ghost.

Merlin didn't know how long he stayed there, bowing before her. It felt like an eternity, like the lifetime they should have had together… falling through his fingertips like so much sand. He couldn't lie to himself anymore; for perhaps the very first time in his life, he was entirely truthful with himself. Morgana was gone, and _he_ was responsible.

"You were e-everything to me." He sobbed, burying his face in her chest like a little boy, bunching up the folds of her new dress with an iron grip. "_You still are._ And I didn't protect you… such a c-coward, such a _fool!_"

He pulled back to look at her peaceful face, and the tiny smile frozen on it. Why…?

"Why were you happy…?" Merlin whispered, his brow creasing a valley on his forehead. "You knew you were going… why did you-"

When he finally understood, he threw back his head and laughed darkly. Some part of him wondered at how little he sounded like himself.

"_Oh,_ of course. You knew _Uther _was dead too."

Merlin laughed again, longer, deeper, turning to jeer almost maniacally at the crumpled body of Morgana's great tormentor. How tiny he was, in the end! Merlin lowered his face to nuzzle lovingly against hers; still watching, reveling, in Uther's empty eyes.

"You have your revenge, my love. I'm only sorry you're not here to enjoy it; you _would,_ more than anyone." He frowned bitterly. "Well, except perhaps Gaius…"

…Gaius?

_**Gaius!**_

With another harsh bark of laughter, Merlin pulled her into his arms and shot to his feet. It took only a second to pin down the presence he suddenly craved, trying in vain to hide itself. As if anyone could hide from him, anymore. With a promising kiss to her hairline, the greatest sorcerer to ever live stumbled off into the dark like a drunkard, humming to her an off-key lullaby.

_Sleep tight, my love. I'll be here when you wake._

###

The witch was dead.

And so was Uther Pendragon.

Kilgarrah should be overjoyed. After all these years of plotting, attempt after frustrated attempt, this should be a dream come true. Camelot's two greatest foes were corpses now… he could taste their death on the air. The fresh smell of human blood, the minute gasses released by the first stirrings of decomposition, it all carried downwind to his keen nose. The Great Dragon breathed in their death, and savored the moment.

…Yet, after all this time, victory was less sweet than he had imagined.

Norialla would be laughing right now, he knew. He could almost see his mate of eight hundred years, flying backwards before him just to prove herself faster, mocking him for being so… what had she called it? 'Willy-nilly?' Some absurd phrase she had picked up from one of their children, back when they were freshly hatched, before they struck out to build their own nests and raise all their beautiful grandchildren.

Perhaps she learned it from Balinor. It was certainly absurd enough to be human in origin, and his old friend had a thousand peasant phrases in his pocket.

With a snort of ember, Kilgarrah discarded the thoughts. Balinor was not his friend. Balinor had trusted the king over all reason. (_"He's my friend, Kilgarrah, and he's just lost his wife; if he wants to make peace, I think we should give him the chance.")_ The Dragonlord had no qualms with overriding his objections, either; in leading him bound against his will to the king; _so sure_ that Uther wouldn't betray them. And then… _and then…_

The fearsome dragon let out a pitiful whine in the dark. The screaming rose back up out of the tides of time, as clear as the day it had happened. His people, his love, his _children…_ When the trap had been sprung, when Medhir's ancient dragon-killing chains had risen themselves from the earth and locked around their wrists. Balinor the fool, struck down with a blow to the head by Uther himself, while he dived to rescue his Dragonlord because, despite everything, _he was still his friend…_

The chain had snapped taught and slammed him back down to the ground, slowly draining away his very magic. He struggled to escape, even knowing full well how in vain it really was; at the tender age of one-hundred-and-forty, he had seen many dragons older and stronger than him caught forever in the grip of this iron, during the war against Medhir, the mad hunter of his kind.

Kilgarrah knew even then that no dragon, nor even the most powerful of sorcerers, was able to counter Medhir's mad magic. Uther's Purge had left him with a wide variety of magical artifacts, of which her accursed relics were just one. Kilgarrah could still see the look on the human tyrant's face… the way he had relished fighting magic with magic. It had been so disgu-

"Hello, dragon."

Amber eyes snapping wide open, Kilgarrah broke from his reverie and reared back in shock. Standing calmly on the edge of the rocky platform that the dragon slept on, clutching the witch's body in his arms, was Merlin.

"H-how…?" Too surprised to even care about showing how rattled he was, Kilgarrah glanced down. Yes, there was still only a vast abyss and a sheer cliff face leading up to him. Shaken, the dragon turned back to regard his young warlock, taking in the odd little smile on his face. He hadn't even _smelled_ him coming, not even when he was standing right in front of his nose.

"…Merlin." He said at last, nodding cordially while attempting to pull himself together. Tossing aside ideas about asking why he'd come or how he'd snuck up on him, Kilgarrah said the only thing that actually mattered. "You will not believe me, but I am truly sorry for your loss."

The boy inclined his head and smiled wider. "…You are?"

Kilgarrah sighed roughly. "You are too gentle a soul to lose your mate… especially so soon after losing your mentor."

"Gaius is actually why I'm here." Merlin said, his expression a considering one. "Actually, it's more something you said about him… but that's neither here nor there." Little blue eyes suddenly immobilized him, harder than any chain ever could have. "…I'd like to know how much of Morgana's death I _actually _owe to you."

Kilgarrah paused, weighing the pros and cons, before going ahead. If anything, Merlin deserved some element of honesty from him.

"All of it." He replied, without remorse. Why should he feel ashamed of ridding Camelot of the monster she could become? If he could only dream like he dreamed… "I have been… _accelerating_ Uther's breakdown, in the hopes of forcing the witch's hand."

He braced himself for an outburst, at either his admission or the insult. Instead, Merlin just nodded somberly and motioned with his head for him to continue. Cautiously, Kilgarrah did.

"I… wanted to show you her true nature." He said; _that_ got a reaction, though it was only a small twitch of the eye. "I did not think anything else would change your love for her."

Merlin broke away to look down at the woman in his arms, studying her. "…If you believe her so black of heart, how can you believe that I would love her?" He whispered. Kilgarrah almost bowed his head at the sound of his voice, and the way his eyes traced the lines of her face. He knew he had caused this agony, the pain of lost love that he knew far too well.

If only he could regret it.

"I initially believed her to be little more than a bad egg waiting to crack." The dragon rumbled. "And to some extent, I held to that notion. But to my utmost shock, I saw her love for you… tasted it on the air, pure and true. Not even I could deny it, or the lengths she was ready to go to for you."

For some reason, Merlin bowed his head at that, his small shoulders shaking as he held his mate's body closer. Kilgarrah swallowed, unexpectedly affected by his grief.

"…But love is not bigger than destiny, Merlin. And whether she was to stab you in the back or lead others to do so, Morgana's nature has always been to ruin you." He drew himself up, feeling bolstered as always by the unmitigated righteousness given to him by providence. "At the end of every vision I've ever had of your relationship, your fate is always the same. You die, because of her. And I could not bear that, Merlin, not when I-"

_When I what?_ He mused. _When I care for you? When you are the only person in the world I have left?_

For the longest time, silence reigned.

Finally, Merlin heaved his own sigh, tired and broken, and lowered himself to the ground. Morgana's body came to rest gently in the dirt, while he remained kneeling over her, fingertips caressing her hair with the softness that only a hand with no claws could give.

"You… have no idea what you meant to me, when I time first arrived in Camelot." Merlin said suddenly, still not looking at him. Kilgarrah blinked dumbly; of all the response that he'd expected… "All my life, I've been aimlessly running from my powers… _you_ gave me the purpose I've always needed. I clung to that, even when you began manipulating me. And maybe I… maybe I can almost forgive that."

Kilgarrah grimaced, feeling the first alien stirrings of guilt in his molten heart. He still remembered that boy wandering into his cavern, what feels like minutes ago to his advanced age. The fragile friendship they shared, hidden beneath his cryptic murmurings and Merlin's exasperated shouts. Losing that… it hit harder than the Great Dragon had come to realize.

"But what I _can never_ forgive, is the fact that Morgana didn't just need a purpose from you… she needed _help._" The warlock continued slowly, still keeping his eyes firmly on his mate's face. "And you simply attacked her at every turn. Worse, you tried to turn everyone who _could_ help against her. As if… as if it truly was what the gods wanted from me, to simply _abandon_ her… like so much _garbage._"

"Merlin-!" Kilgarrah began indignantly.

"_Silence."_ Merlin commanded without looking up.

The Great Dragon found his jaw suddenly fused. Tinges of a familiar magic- a voice whispering '_Dragonlord'-_ surrounded him, before he realized that this _wasn't_ Merlin finally claiming his father's inheritance. No, this was simply his own power, finally uncorked and let loose on the world.

"All this time wasted, pretending that anything but her mattered… well, I suppose only you know how this story would have gone, right? If you had you successfully tricked me, into condemning someone I love to a terrible fate- _again."_ The disturbingly serene words floated up from below, only slightly marred by the low growl in his voice. Kilgarrah began to flex his wings, seized by the urge to flee, only to find an invisible force holding them taught. "But… _I never would have,_ do you understand?"

At last, Merlin met his eyes. And what the Great Dragon of over a thousand years saw in those beady human eyes made his scales crawl.

"I'll _never_ leave her in the dark."

Kilgarrah pulled back and, suddenly, he finally understood what Merlin had meant, about something he had once said about Gaius.

"_While I know of no way to reverse the damage to a body so old, I do know of a power that can heal most anything. And the irony is that you already hold it… because you've used it to save him once before."_

With explosive effort, Kilgarrah broke the spell binding him, and let out a humongous roar.

"**YOU **_**CANNOT**_** THINK OF GIVING UP YOUR LIFE FOR HER RESURRECTION!"**

Merlin smiled- actually _smiled-_ up at him, and that only made the dragon even angrier.

"**I WILL NOT ALLOW IT! YOU HAVE A DESTINY, A-A- PURPOSE, YOU-"** The literal fire in him died as suddenly as it had been born, and Kilgarrah bowed his head. "Y-you are worth _more _than her. Please… _don't..."_

"Sir Dragon, I'm _touched."_ Merlin said sarcastically. "But didn't I just tell you that I wasn't going to leave her? Didn't I just tell you? She is _all_ that matters to me anymore."

Before Kilgarrah could catch up to what the boy was saying, a small click distracted him. And he watched, anti-climatically, as Medhir's life-sucking chain simply fell off him, and dropped into the dark.

He was free.

_He_ was _**free.**_

…And why was it so cold all of a sudden?

Merlin climbed to his feet slowly, like something dark rising from the swamp, still hands reaching out beside him to claw at the air. All traces of humor drained from his face, all traces of _Merlin,_ until what was left was simply…

"_Emrys." _The dragon whispered.

"_You've spent Morgana's life trying to sacrifice her at your altar…it's only fair I return the favor."_

The boy- no, the _man_- no, the _**thing**_ was speaking, with all the silk of his mate's dressing, directly into his soul.

"_**But I want to you RUN first."**_

And so he ran.

###

One thousand years ago, a tiny creature hatches from an egg, to the joyous cries of its mother. After much deliberation, she names him 'Kilgarrah', after their word for the rather adorable growl her little boy tries to make- more of a gurgle really. His father gone and his siblings unborn… he is alone.

(The people of Camelot, worn and still reeling from the days events, point in shock at the skies. Lit by the light of dawn, they watch as thunderclouds bloom to life as far as the eye can see. Like snakes they slither down the sky, swirling electric cyclones, entering the ground through any pore they can find. The storms floods Camelot's underground, swelling unnaturally as they fill every inch of the dark caverns. Rain begins to fall on Uther Pendragon's cold face.)

Eight hundred years ago, Kilgarrah follows his mother onto the frontlines, to prove himself. He instead finds mockery for his devotion to his mother, and his small stature. A glistening green female jeers as well, but with a dose of affection that he doesn't know what he's done to earn. He thinks her more beautiful than any he has ever seen before, but intimidated as always, the little dragon sticks close to his mother. And when the chains bind her and the undead knights cut his mother's heart out, the beautiful female is the only one who nuzzles against him in support.

Her name is Norialla, and he is not alone.

(Kilgarrah flies frantically through the dark, too terrified to enjoy his freedom. The smell of rain and ozone alerts him to the writhing wall of thunderhead now pursuing him. _No, no, I'm free now, it can't end like this!_ Forced to circle back to avoid another plume, Kilgarrah passes the outcropping he was sleeping on. Merlin is there, the eye of the storm, face blank and eyes shining, and he has never known such fear.)

Twenty years ago, Kilgarrah screams and begs and sobs beneath the earth as he hears the sounds of his entire species being slaughtered. He hears Norialla beg him not to be afraid as they pin her in the mountains, as she promises to wait for him wherever they end up, but her encouragement turns to screams as their spears dig into her. Clawing desperately at the chain sapping his strength, he can do nothing but listen, and cry, as the love of his life dies slowly, miles and miles away.

He does not care to remember how his children and grandchildren go. Perhaps he has blocked it out. But he knows he heard them die as well… the Great Dragon heard _all_ of their last moments. And for the first time in centuries, he is alone.

(His wings clip the edge of the rock wall, stopping his flight just long enough to be struck by a bolt of lightning. He falls, down into the crackling clouds that rush to engulf him. _No, free, I'm __**free-!**_ White fire consumes him, drawing screaming roars from his jaw, as a millennia of life force is ripped out of him. Opening a single bleeding eye, Kilgarrah sees Merlin watching from above… unmoved.)

Kilgarrah awakens from the slumber that night, from the screaming quiet in his head where his people's voices should be. He expected nightmares; instead, sleep brought him hope. It was a vision, just one, of a boy… a tiny little human with a stupid human smile and kind human eyes, who will talk to him. Fly with him. _Forgive him. _And with the entire world against them, the very last of their respective kinds, they will be there for each other.

He cries tears of lava that night… and knows he has something to live for still. A friend.

(_That's it, isn't it?_ Kilgarrah laughed as well as he could, while his body burned. _I had let myself forget… all this time imprisoned, _you_ kept me going, my young warlock. _He had coveted Merlin, protected him, and sacrificed anyone; just to bring to life that one vision of Merlin and Kilgarrah, the great duo, alive and joyous and flying over Camelot. So he would never be alone again.)

Ten seconds ago, Kilgarrah realized that all his efforts had been in vain.

Seven seconds ago, Kilgarrah tried to repent.

Four seconds ago, Merlin still didn't care.

One second ago, Morgana was _avenged._

Now… as the underground storm evaporates and the ash that was the Great Dragon falls to the dirt, Merlin turns excitedly towards his mate. He gathers her into his shaking arms, laughing madly as he feels a heartbeat, waiting for her glistening eyes to open. He watches for ages it seems, holding his breath, but…

"_Wake up…_ oh no, please, Morgana,_ please_ wake up…"

###

There is a lake, like any other. Only it's not.

If you look at it from just the right angle in just right way, you'll see another world… you'll see _Avalon._

Past the sandy shores and the barbaric Sidhe's blockade, through the shimmering archway and to the left of the hall of the Nine, you will find an apple garden, bigger than the eye can see. And in the center, surrounded by shining trees, lies a tomb wrought of crystal. Within it…

The Lady Morgana awoke with a harsh scream, and the crystal burst.

Disoriented, she collapsed onto the grass with a grunt, body wracked with dry heaves. She was… _she was… _Morgana sat up and clutched at her chest, breathing out in relief when she found no sword or stab wound. Staggering to her feet, she took in her dress- white and beautiful, though the collar was a little too high for her liking- and the utterly outlandish surroundings.

Uther was dead, then. She rather thought she should be happy about that, and yet… all she felt was a brand new sorrow, just for him. _My father,_ she mused wistfully, _killed by my sister, and-_

"Merlin-!" She whispered suddenly. If she was alive- _she had to find him-_

"…Is going to need your help, my lady."

Morgana froze up. No, it couldn't be-

Slowly, she turned on the spot, not even bothering to fight the tears that came.

Picking an apple and putting it in a basket on his arm, resplendent in the finest robes, smiling in the sun… there stood Gaius.

###

**See, I told you Morgana'd be okay. I think. (Bonus Gaius, hee~!) And did I mention I was a big fan of Dark!Merlin?**

**Almost every tragic!Mergana fic ends the same. Either Merlin puts Arthur before Morgana and that makes her goes bad, or Merlin dies and **_**that **_**makes her goes bad. I wanted to do something different. By nature I think a relationship with each other would push Mergana really far outside their own comfort zones… so many fics have Merlin leading Morgana into the light, but nobody really tries to address Morgana leading Merlin into the dark. Here, she's the catalyst for a **_**huge**_** breakdown.**

**On the other hand, maybe this seems a bit farfetched to you. I mean, it is **_**Merlin,**_** Mr. 'Cries-Over-Dead-Unicorns' himself we're talking about here. And I'm not saying he's not a good person, but I think with everything he's done and how little remorse he's shown; there's a deep, dark vein running in Merlin that he keeps suppressed at all times… and in this story, he just can't do it anymore. Hopefully, this doesn't come off as clumsy, and feels natural for Merlin's progression in this story. If you've been paying attention, and I done it right, you've seen him quietly collapsing for a while now between the margins.**

**2-3 chapters to go, featuring the biggest fight our couple has ever had! Oh, it is **_**on like Donkey Kong,**_** baby. And, apparently, the whole 'short chapter/fast update' thing was a total fluke. Dammit, self… :I**


	34. House of Cards pt5

Gaius smiled warmly at her in the golden sun, and Morgana's face crumpled.

The lady didn't even bother trying to fight the tears, torn between overwhelming joy at seeing him, and crushing emptiness at the realization of what this must mean.

"Am… am I…?" She said shakily, unable to even form the words. "..._dead?"_

"I'm _so_ sorry, my child." Gaius replied sadly, instantly pull her into the strongest hug he'd ever given her. Morgana sank gratefully into his withered arms, burying her face into his shoulder. So, it hadn't been another horrid nightmare; she truly was gone from this world- or the world she had left behind, at any rate. But… if she had felt such peace at the end- falling asleep in his arms for one final time- then _why…_ why did it hurt so much to hear it said aloud?

_Because I left Merlin all alone._ Morgana answered herself longingly.

Gaius pulled away just enough to look at her carefully, his worn hands softly taking either side of her face to force her to meet his kind gaze. After a moment of analyzing her, he nodded to himself, as if confirming a theory. Morgana gave him a weak smile despite herself; she had so missed watching him perform science, even if it had always bored her. It was as much a part of him as the 'brow of discontent.'

"It seems Merlin's attempt was not enough to truly bring you back…" Gaius was saying sadly. "I'm sorry, my lady; like myself, you are now stuck between life and death."

Morgana pulled back. 'Merlin's attempt'… _what…?_

Seeing her confusion, Gaius crossed his arms and nodded. "It's no surprise, I suppose, that human life should be given to resurrect a human death… for all his prodigious talent, even Merlin cannot be a master at this lost art so quickly." His wry smile died as quickly as it had arrived. "My child, I'm afraid… I'm afraid that Merlin has just murdered the Great Dragon, in an unsuccessful bid to try to bring you back to life. And once he realizes he needs another sacrifice, your killer will be the first person he goes after."

_My killer…_ A shouted curse, a flash of steel and blonde locks, watching her father's dying breath as they were both impaled on her sister's sword… she remembered it all. Morgause- _her sister-_ had struck without sight, too eager to have her revenge, and taken both of their lives. The chill that crept up her spine, when she imagined the guilt that must be consuming her sister, was nothing compared to the ice in her stomach when she realized that she was all alone with Merlin and her body right now.

"Oh my God-!" The curse left her lips before she could stop it, as she remembered all those times- oh, all those times- when she was in danger, and Merlin saved her with eyes blank and vengeful and now she was _dead_ and-and-

"Morgana, please listen to me." Gaius' stern look broke her out of her panic, making her note the level of gravity in his voice. "Merlin had to have left Morgause in order to find the dragon; she is safe, for now. And more importantly, she is not the only one in danger."

She looked at him like he was mad, laughing almost hysterical through her tears. "_Surely,_ you cannot mean-"

"I-I'm afraid I do, my lady." He said gravely. "In this moment, all that matters is that we find a way to bring you back so that…"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "So that…?"

Gaius swallowed, and said the last words she wanted to hear. "…so that you can stop Merlin before he destroys Camelot."

…

"_What?"_

Morgana clamped down on her earlier panic for her sister, for _Merlin,_ because what she was thinking and Gaius was saying was _ridiculous._ With an irritated huff she turned away, grass crunching under her soles as she approached the tomb she had been laying in, carefully avoiding the crystal shards littering the area. She stumbled halfway, as a pain unlike any she had ever experience impaled her on its sword, and a hand yanked her into a mirror of liquid, and then… _then…_

_There is a bath, a cold bath of water, rising up slowly from her feet, freezing her solid until she cannot move. But there is no submergence, no lake nor river; she is being drowned in the waters she had just drunk, and even as the paralysis reaches her lungs she realizes what has happened, hands clawing at her own throat as she look up at him;_

'_Why…?" She tries to scream, in vain._

_Merlin turns slowly to face her in front of the throne, lit strangely by the waning light, and though he tries to hide them she can see his tears. He is killing her, and he is crying for her. _(Saint and sinner, all at once.) _She fights away his hands, his warm grasp, as the world goes dark and she is dying in his arms again, but there's no peace to be found here, _no love-

Morgana's world rights itself as she stands straight again, and she shakes out her hair to yank the hurt and the image from her mind. A nightmare without sleep; a dream looking not forwards, but _sideways;_ a cold reminder of how far her beloved could go, without her by his side…

_No._ Morgana thought firmly, projected at Avalon at large; reminding it that she would not be swayed in her faith in him. To death do them part, and beyond. So she buried the cruel vision with extreme prejudice; that was the last she would think of… _that._

"You are _stark raving._" She said at last, glancing at Gaius over her should as she fought for composure.

The Lady Morgana had grown accustomed to internalizing outlandish things in very short periods of time. Confirmation of her magic, learning of Merlin's, realizing her love for him, being told of her secret family history, even having her own death and partial revival laid out for her … she had dealt with all of these harsh surprises exceptionally well, she thought. But _this_ was one theory she would not subscribe too, not-dreams be damned.

"My lady, please listen…" Gaius was saying, approaching her from where she stood with her back to him next to the tomb. "As hard as this must be to hear, Merlin-"

Morgana turned to him in a swirl of hair and fabrics, feeling her own eyes burn amber. "_Is a good man,_ Gaius! And a strong one, stronger than anyone gives him credit for. He will not- he _could not-"_ Her voice died along with the light of her eyes, but the desperation remained. "He is the kindest soul I've ever known…"

"My lady- _Morgana,_ please." Gaius began again; a single lift of his brow cutting off her coming shout. "I did not wish to believe it either, and yet I have felt the proof myself. Merlin's rage reached us even here, and it was terri-!"

Morgana snorted derisively in the middle of his distressed pleas. "If that is so, why did I not feel it, hmm?" She spat. "Where is this so called evidence of my husband's… _descent?"_

Gaius merely grimaced, and looked pointedly behind her. Morgana turned to the tomb she had risen from, plagued by broken shards of the crystal that had been encasing her. A small crunch alerted her to her sandals crushing a few as she stepped up to it.

"According to the priestess who have welcomed me during my stay; this tomb was meant for the Once and Future King," Gaius said matter-of-factly, the slightest note of wistfulness in his voice. "To keep him safely between life and death while he recovers from the wounds he should receive from the traitor Mordred, until the day the crystal encasing him breaks and he can return, to put right what was lost. That dream is dead, now that Merlin has co-opted Arthur's tomb to save you… though I don't think he meant too."

Morgana swallowed audibly, despite herself, and shook her head to free it from that same piercing sting that flashed through it. She let out a pained cry as her hands cradled her face, trying to flee from the cold knowledge that a nightmare was coming to her on leather wings, _but she was awake, _how was this hap-

_Arthur lies inside his crystal coffin, gauntleted hands holding the hilt of a grand sword, humming with fire and promise. From all across the grove they come, the Nine, the sisters of Avalon, to assist the old magic in guiding the world's king back to life._

_Morgan le Fay walks among them, but apart from them, leading the way as if she is the only one truly fit for this job. In a way, she is… the others only care of what he will do, but she is the only one who is here for Arthur himself. They are well accustomed to her ways, though, and Morgause shakes her head affectionately at Nimueh, the only two among the holy priestesses to understand why she is like this._

_Morgan stops in front of her brother, cool eyes of pale green stone taking in the many lines on his face, white gloved hands reaching up self-consciously to trace the smooth places where they should be. So many years, she muses, so many centuries spent tending her long lost family, and you would never know it to look at her. She can barely remember the pain that brought her here, the madness that devoured her whole until the end; until it was just her and _Merlin,_ the way it always was, standing in a field of broken bodies._

_The turn of the Earth may blur many things for her, but she is incapable of forgetting that face. Coolly condemning and finally forgiving, as together they loaded Arthur's corpse onto the boat and she set off to Avalon, to redeem herself. And he set off into the brush, to find himself at last, now that there was no king and no kingdom left to serve._

_Merlin is never far from her mind, and never closer than when she is with the man they both defined themselves by. After all this time, she finds it not hard at all to at last forgive him. She wonders where he is, what he is like now; if perhaps, in another time and another place…_

_Morgan le- no, _Morgana Pendragon- _shook her head and sighed._

_So much time lost._

Morgana's scream dies in her throat; she is fine, she is back now, she is herself. The cold Morgana, the _hollow_ Morgana, recedes back into the abyss of time, and she is Merlin's wife once more. He had never betrayed her, she had never betrayed everyone else, and- and- was someone holding her?

"Th-thank you, Gaius." She murmured distractedly, grateful she had not fallen on the sharp glass, when her eyes caught his worried ones and another flash pierces her, less hard this time;

_There is a woman, beautiful and blonde, excitedly showing the young Gaius pages from her book- Merlin's spellbook, she realizes, the one he gave to her- and the candlelight catches her eyes in such a way that for the first time he truly believes in magic; for no science could ever describe the beacon that is Alice. And the fireplace is abruptly lit aflame by the strength of his passion, a passion he will never reach again, and he blushes under her knowing gaze-_

_There is a teenager crying, desperately trying to stifle tears she no longer wants to shed, as she sits alone in the bed of a familiar room- it is Merlin's old room, in the back of Gaius' chambers. The young woman jumps when the door opens slowly, expecting to see her friend, the gentle prince, with hands drenched in blood and face lined with years and madness. Instead it is Gaius, smiling weakly down at her, and it is all she can stand before she has wrapped herself around his frame. And for the first time in years, the young woman allows herself to believe in someone-_

_And there is Morgause, young and scared, running from a crazed woman- the same woman- in the dark, running from her newly twisted mind and the dark plans she had to use Uther's daughter against hi-_

_And there is the dragon, whispering to the woman in her sleep, telling her how she was the only one capable of stopping him, how important Camelot's destiny was, how to save Emrys by sacrificing-_

_And there is Merlin, her Merlin, eyes cold and blank and she remembers now, oh she remembers, just how terrifying he is to behold when acting in defense of those he loves. And the woman- it is Nimueh, she knows at last- cries again, as she is consumed by the light-_

…

"Wh-what _is_ this?" Morgana shouted, trying to break away from his surprisingly firm arms; only making it a few paces before stumbling back into Gaius' concerned grasp. Her head was _pounding,_ Gaius was calling for her with fear lining ever contour of his face, and she couldn't-

_A young couple kisses over brewing potions, they complete each other, they are Gaius and Alice, she is running into the night as guards chase her and he is staying behind as Uther's right hand, promises never to practice her art again, if he _please_ just spares this one, for his sake-_

"Deep breaths, Morgana." Gaius whispered in her ear, and she tore away again, pressing against her head as if trying to force out the nonsensical storm of events. It began to calm, somewhat, as she finally realized just what had kept Gaius on Uther's side all these years.

"That's why you stayed with Uther-" she mumbles, as the pain begins to finally leave her. "You made a deal, so he wouldn't go after the woman you loved."

Looking over her shoulder, she watched Gaius nod sadly. "I was a fool, Morgana. I thought I could protect her by separating us; instead, I have only bought a lifetime of heartache and loneliness for us both."

Morgana's gaze fell to the ground. She knew what that felt like, far too well. Memories of the look on Merlin's face when she had told him she didn't love him, and the agony of their parting that followed, still cut her to her core. But that pain is nothing as compared to the way the breath leaves her body with the snippets of new memories trickling in. Destinies where Merlin is dead or an enemy or does not even exist, lives spent mired in cruelty and loneliness and his ringing absence. An eternity of Morganas stretching from side to side, all losing or hating or never even knowing him; and in this moment, she thinks she understand separation more than anyone who has lived.

"This… _place_… I believe it lets one See without sleep." Morgana stated at last, shaking the threads of foreign knowledge out of her head as the Sight tried to claw its way back in. The entire world- or at least, _this_ entire world- seemed to be whispering to her, gifting her with arcane knowledge she wasn't even sure she could comprehend, trying to pull back a thousand different curtains to show her destiny after destiny. She wondered if this was what Merlin felt like, when magic just came to him the way it did.

"I am not surprised." Gaius conceded, stepping close enough to put a cautious arm on hers. "Avalon lays at the juncture in-between all things; life and death, magic and science… even the waking and dreaming worlds are united within its boundaries."

Morgana looked at him as if from very far away, as Avalon continued to speak to her from across time. He had left out the most crucial one; in this place, reality and possibility were bedmates.

"Yes… it is here that a Seer's true potential is unlocked, and she can See beyond all veils." The words left her lips as if they weren't her own. The probably weren't.

"Then _look,_ Morgana." Gaius rejoined earnestly, keen eyes forcing her to finally focusing on him. "See what Merlin's path is, now that he has lost you."

Morgana shook her head.

"I don't need to. I know who Merlin is, and what he's capa-"

_An image pierced her, seared her to her soul; golden eyes the only light in a world of eternal midnight, no hope, no love, only grief; staring sightlessly through his hair, through time, through _her-

Screaming his name, Morgana collapsed… into the dark.

###

"What did you see, my dear?"

Morgana shot an unreadable glance towards Gaius, as he checked over her head while she lay propped up against the tomb, scarcely able to believe that there was no wound from the fall. (She kept trying to tell him they were practically spirits, but that must be quite a lot to swallow for a man of science…)

The Seer had only been unconscious- or whatever the equivalent was in a world without sleep or death- for a few minutes, but it had been more than enough.

"I saw the world unfold before me." Morgana whispered. For a moment, she swayed, as if blown by the force of what she'd been exposed to, before a sudden laugh set Gaius off guard. "It's funny, isn't it, Gaius?" She giggled inappropriately. "All this time I've been fleeing from my dreams, and now that there's nowhere to run, I find them almost… _nice?"_

Gaius just smiled at her, in a way that said 'I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm happy for you.' She thought he must have perfected it on Merlin- or, perhaps, even Nimueh. "You can control it, then?"

Morgana shook her head; the future wasn't something to be bossed around, she knew that now. "It's more like… I can rest easy, finally, for I believe Avalon has helped my Sight show me all that it wants me to see." She groaned and lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck, where something not quite like pain was radiating. She could feel her inner eye closing for the last time… "I don't think I'll be having anymore nightmares, after this."

Gaius heaved a sigh and settled against the tomb next to her, after brushing some stray shards off the ground. "I am pleased, then." He said, with the air of someone putting their affairs in order before getting into bed. For the first time she noticed the basket of apples he had left on Arthur's sacred resting place, and it was all so very un-Gaius, to disrespect decorum like that… perhaps Merlin had finally managed to make him lessen the hold he had on his reigns, after all. So, on a whim, the lady slid her smooth hand into his rough one, smiling warmly at her oldest friend. And for a time, they simply sat there, admiring the light glistening off the apple trees.

Morgana closed her eyes, and almost wished that Merlin were here with them. A place all their own, with no destiny and no one to kill; it was exactly what they had always wanted. No, that's not true; she didn't mind killing if for the right cause, and perhaps even enjoyed the thrill of it on some dark level, as a good knight does. It was _Merlin_ that had always wanted an end to it… because it was always him who had to take life, wasn't it?

Morgana could see it all now, stretched throughout time. Merlin the servant, the gentlest man in the world, forced to murder over and over again in the name of destiny, and burying the guilt and the disgust further and further each time until it becomes frighteningly easy to do. She had made a promise to protect him from that, to kill all their foes before they could even touch him, and even in trying she had failed spectacularly. When the chips were down, it was never she who had to make that terrible choice to save Camelot, never Arthur or Uther or anyone truly capable of it. It always came down to Merlin, the last man who wanted to hurt anyone.

_She is choking, and dying, and _hating_ him, all the while she takes comfort in his arms. Never once after is she strong enough to admit _why_ he had held her and cried into her hair… to admit that he didn't want to do this to her._

Morgana sigh internally.

_And the whole time, there I was, trying to get you to become even more of a killer._ Morgana rolled her eyes skyward at herself, unable to tolerate the self-loathing slithering in her gut. Because, when the day she had prayed for finally came, and Uther was gone; she had felt nothing but sorrow. There was no righteous thrill, no avenged elation; he was a broken old man haunted by voices real and imagined, and her father through and through. In the face of his madness, she knew that Merlin had been correct after all; that even a soul as black as Uther's deserved a second chance. _You were right, Merlin, you were _always_ right. Only, the funny thing is; now I've made you think that my selfish quest for vengeance was the just course, haven't I?_

Her Merlin was _broken,_ Morgana knew_; _she had broken him clean in half, and if Morgause didn't pay the price, Camelot would.

Gaius opened his mouth at last to speak, but she beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say." She whispered, meeting his eyes with a tearful smile. "I Saw it in my dream, and my answer is no."

Gaius frowned. "If it is a matter of difficulty, I assure you, I have watched the ceremony performed many times now and you are a very talented sorceress, I'm sure I could teach-"

Morgana cut him off with a wistful smile. "I've Seen all I need to do it myself… but I'm sorry, Gaius, I _will not _sacrifice your life to bring myself back to Merlin."

Her face fell sadly, and she turned back to watch the non-existent sun set in the horizon, lighting up the sky with every color she could imagine.

"If Merlin has taught me anything," she mused quietly. "…it is that the greater good is rarely serviced by offering tributes in its name."

"You and I both know that that is a child's view of the world." Gaius grumbled beside her, his grip tightening almost roughly on her hand. "Nothing worth anything comes without loss, Morgana… and my time has far passed."

"And what of Alice?" Morgana bit out, scoffing at his wise old face. "You will never see her again, never be reunited!"

"I believe- I _have_ to believe- that wherever we go when we die will allow us to be together once more." He replied, his old voice tired and bittersweet. "I have already failed her in this life, failed _so_ many; I cannot fail anyone else. And it's not as if I am going to recover from the injuries to my true body; I can feel myself slipping from the living world with each passing second."

Morgana bit her lip as he continued, listing the reasons for his sacrifice as plainly as potion ingredients.

"So you see, my dear, I will die regardless. And to be honest…" The old man let his head fall back against the stone, eyes shut tightly. "I really could use the rest, Morgana." The words spilled from his mouth in an exhausted sigh.

And Morgana sat, and watched him, waiting for him to move or speak or… _something._ But he stayed still as if sleeping, and she knew what he was waiting for. Just as she knew how pointless it was to pretend she couldn't do this, _wouldn't do this,_ hadn't always been going to.

Because in all the world, there was nothing more important to her than saving Merlin.

"I had to try, you know," She whispered, as her hand drifted out of his and she rose to stand above him. "…To trick myself into believing that I would not to be able to do such a thing."

"Then thank you, Morgana." He smiled warmly, eyes still closed. "For making an old man feel important."

"But you _are_ important, Gaius. You're important… because you are _loved._" Pale blues opened to meet hers, stunned and touched. Unashamedly, she let her tears break yet again, no longer afraid to sob for those who deserved it, strong enough to admit that… "_I don't want to do this."_

"Oh, hush child." He said gruffly, but waveringly, as if she wouldn't see his own tears if he again shut his eyes tightly enough. "I've lived a good life in the service of my loved ones; let me die a good death in the same manner."

In spite of herself, Morgana laughed a genuine laugh.

_Always the caretaker, even to the end._

And for the first time, rain began to fall on Avalon.

###

**As Merlin falls into the dark, so does Morgana rise into the light. Destiny is broken and the Golden Age lies bleeding… the designated hero is poised to become Camelot's greatest threat, and the only one who can save it is it's fated villain. But what will this new future look like, when the dust settles?**

**2-3 chapters to go… (still…)**


	35. House of Cards pt6

For the life of her, Morgause cannot move.

It is not the pain that freezes her, the raw bleeding wounds all over peeking through her shattered armor. Nor is it the leg that still betrays her. It isn't elation at finally, gloriously, ridding herself of the _beast _who stole the whole world from her. It isn't even horror at who _else_ she rid the world of.

No, Morgause is paralyzed by the earnest gaze of her little brother Arthur.

"Mor-Morgause?" He says, cracked lips working strangely around the unfamiliar name. The prince looks like he has survived a war, as if he can barely hold himself up, and yet the second she materialized back in the throne room, he was there. Idly she wonders why he is bothering to hold her, cradle her to him the way Cerdan had when he had found her, lost in the forest…

She can barely remember the sound of his voice anymore.

"Morgause, are you alright?" Arthur tries again, shooting a concerned look at the equally battered maid beside him.

"What's happened?" The younger woman said gently, one hand on both their shoulders. Morgause can't help the sarcastic chuckle that escapes her; even she can see the way each other's breath hitch with just a touch. The prince and the maid… love certainly had a sense of humor, as Cerdan had always said. It was true of them, as well.

The last remaining priestess, high and mighty, rescued by a lowly druid. He had never known what she'd seen in him, the beautiful fool. Not even when she'd given birth to their boy, their Mordred, did he seem to believe what luck he had been given. But Morgause had always known it was _she_ who was truly blessed. Her world had been gone when the fires came to the Isle, when Nimueh cornered her in the ash and told her of all the wicked things they would do together, her twisted grin seared into her memory. When she realized that the father that had never wanted her was behind the death of everyone she loved.

Scared and alone, she had been fully ready to die there in the woods.

But Cerdan had found her. Nursed her back to health no matter how hard she protested, made her believe again in herself and in hope for the future, gave her a brand new home and a wonderful people to belong too. Morgause would never forget the iron of his grip around her hand, holding her steady and bleeding away the pain of the tattooing on her back, when she finally became one of them. Her life line, her everything…

How tiny he must have seemed, to the rest of the world. How easily killed.

Arthur is looking at his maid in open confusion now, as Morgause laughs in his arms between wet coughs. Neither of them understand how love consumes you, how it makes you give everything to the other until the day that they _go;_ and with them, take all that you are. They think they are good people now, think they make each other better… when in reality their love could easily drive either of them into the cold grip of vengeance. A lesson Uther taught her well. A lesson she in turn passed on to Merlin.

"I killed our father." Morgause says at last.

Arthur pulls back, eyes hard with something indefinable. She just looks up at him challengingly, waiting for the inevitable tantrum, the foul countenance so like she had seen in her father today. Waiting for a fist to strike out or a hand to throttle, waiting for revenge to take her as well. All those illusions of her own righteousness have been tainted; she knows she deserves nothing less.

_Morgana must be avenged._

And for half a second, she thinks she'll get it. And then the fire dies in his eyes, and his head bows only briefly, and the woman he loves has wrapped herself around his shoulders consolingly. She remembers that, too; the warm embrace of love, dousing even the blackest of flame. But there is no one there to love her, not _now,_ not after what she's done.

She is alone in his arms.

"…He deserved it." Arthur bites out at last, to her immense shock. His voice sounds as if he is still trying to convince himself, but his eyes shine with conviction. And for the very first time she feels that connection, the knowledge that this is her family and that, perhaps, Uther Pendragon has hurt his son even more than any of them. It is a knowledge she crushes under her heel as soon as she can, because he does not yet understand why he should not be wasting his concerned gaze on her. Why she is truly her father's daughter, after all.

"_My brother_…" she murmurs weakly, freeing a bloodied hand to press into his dirty face. His mouth gapes at her in wonder as she traces the lines of his face, smiling affectionately at the features she has seen before in her boy. In the child she left behind, safe and bereaved in Aglain's care, while she went off to burn his grandfather's whole world to the ground. She regrets the decision to leave him for her revenge; now more than ever. Mordred will look something like his uncle, she thinks; though she hopes he retains something of his beautiful father…

"Can you stand?" The maid- ah yes, her name is Gwen, wasn't it?- says with a worried grimace she does not deserve. Her hands come to her torn back to help Arthur lift her, and she does not bother to hide the scream that the small hands on her open wounds tear from her. There was little point in pride, now, when she has nothing left to be proud of.

"Do not waste the effort, my dear." She whispered tiredly, nodding thankfully up at Arthur as he lowered her back to the ground, still not letting go. "I have no reason to continue…"

Arthur opened his mouth to cry something, distressed by her weakness, but before he could a sudden pair of thin arms shot past him, grabbing her by the collar. Morgause cocked an eyebrow up at the enraged face of a woman, older than her, wild dark hair spilling loose from a pale blue bandanna. It takes only a moment before she recognizes those eyes, dark blue and blazing with grief.

"_Where is my son?"_

Morgause shook her head, brown eyes aching to shed the tears she had all used up.

"Lost…" she answered guiltily. "The boy you knew may as well have died with my sister."

Morgause laughed bitterly as Hunith slammed her back into the ground with a huff, prompting shocked looks from Arthur and Gwen.

"_What did you say about Morgana?"_ The mother shouted, all traces of the demure housewife gone without a trace. Morgause's broken chortling trailed off, as she looked upwards blankly.

"I killed my sister." She murmured. "I killed Morgana. Now… do with me what you will."

The morning light shining through the windows suddenly vanished, as day became night.

"Thank you for the offer, _my lady."_

Merlin rose from the split in the earth like a ghost, Morgana's still body cradled in his arms.

"_**I think I'll take you up on it."**_

###

Instinctively, Arthur felt his nearly broken arm fight through the pain it was stilling reeling from, to lightly touch Guinevere's shoulder. It was a tiny motion, barely anything really, but somehow it grounded the both of them. They had a way to doing that for each other.

The both of them desperately needed it, to face what was before them.

Merlin- shabby, wisecracking _Mer_lin- was _floating_ up out of the dark, seeming to drain the daylight from around them as he ascended. His skin and clothes were caked in dirt, his hair stuck up every which way, and his eyes- _his eyes!_ Arthur could scarcely believe it; he hadn't had nearly enough time to come to grips with the idea, but seeing Merlin using magic, seeing his friendly blues consumed by this disturbing tawny light…

Guinevere swallowed audibly beside him, and Morgause unconsciously drew herself closer to his chest.

It was a terrifying thing to behold.

"_Merlin!"_ Hunith exhaled beside them, looking trapped somewhere between relief and horror. She flinched when those eyes- why wouldn't they stop _glowing?-_ snapped towards her. For a moment nothing happened, as if mother and son were struggling to recognize one another, until Hunith's wide eyes drifted down to his arms. "Oh, Merlin… so it's true?"

Merlin's inhuman eyes looked down bewilderingly as well, at Morgana- _his sister's-_ lifeless body. The dirt didn't seem to touch her fair skin, or the pure white dress she was now wearing. Arthur swallowed again, and felt his fingers tighten hard around his _other_ sister's arm. Morgana was dead.

_Morgana_ was _dead._

And Morgause had killed her.

Their eyes met, raging blue and somber brown, and Arthur found himself _hating_ the sight of her. When she had appeared in the ruined throne room… it had been so easy to haul himself up and run to her, as if something inside was calling to her bloodied form. Now, he wished he hadn't bothered. _Now,_ he wished her obvious guilt and shame didn't tug at his tired heart, even still.

"…_How?" _Came a snarl from his side; with a surprised look, Arthur confirmed that Guinevere had followed his line of sight, and was glaring down at her with tearful eyes. "I-if she truly was your sister, than _how_ could you have killed her?"

Morgause remained silent, simply shaking her head with a rueful smile, before looking back at Merlin.

And that was when they all noticed that Merlin was _laughing._ Not evilly, or maniacally, like he had heard tales of sorcerers being prone to. It was a simple little thing, the kind Arthur had heard expelled a hundred times over some private joke of his. It sounded normal and sane; and considering what the situation was, that was more unsettling then anything.

"Don't worry, Gwen, she's not _dead."_ Merlin said with a genuine smile, wide and goofy and so very out-of-place with the way his eyes kept burning. "Here, see?" Dropping to his knees, a gust of wind cleared the dirt from the floor and made a clear space for him to lay her limp form. Arthur felt a breath he didn't know he'd been holding leave him, as he saw the slightest rise and fall of Morgana's chest. She was _alive._

"I…" Morgause croaked in his arms, her large eyes widening even more, as if wanting to believe it but not daring to. "_But I killed her…"_

The tiny way she said it, like a dry sob, made Arthur share a sad look with Guinevere. Even in all this perplexity, he felt a warm glow in his gut for the love of his life. It seemed they were on the same page about everything, even the annoyed sympathy they couldn't help feeling for the woman in his arms.

"Yes, you did." Merlin said tonelessly, still kneeling beside his wife. A worn hand stroked her hair absent-mindedly, but his face was locked onto Morgause's with luminous intensity. Beside them, he noticed Hunith reeling back a few steps. "You shoved a sword through her heart and you killed her. But _I_ brought her back."

Arthur shuddered involuntarily. Something was incredibly wrong here… and it wasn't just the pitch blackness that had doused the morning light. Something in the air…

"That's not po-" Morgause bit out, cutting herself off with a sharp yell as she forced herself to sit up next to him. The sound made Guinevere wince sympathetically, while he caught Merlin bristling in something like anticipation out of the corner of his eye. Despite himself he found a hand reaching out to her, only to be batted away stubbornly as the blonde woman focused on his manservant with an agonized grimace. "I-it was an _accident,_ Merlin…_"_

Judging from the way Merlin's face twisted, that had been the wrong thing to say.

"An accident is when you trip someone carrying a dinner tray." He began evenly, rising ominously to his feet. "An _accident_ is when you spill your master's wine, or send the wrong letter; it's not an _accident_ when you _murder the WOMAN I __**LOVE!**__"_

Arthur's exhausted arms pulled Guinevere close into his chest- now that Morgause was sitting up with her own strength- in a vain attempt to shield her from what was before them. In all his years, he'd never imagine _Mer_lin could look so… _terrifying._ Judging by the small whimper from Hunith, neither could she.

Merlin took a deep breath, closing his shining eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, still bright, he seemed to have collected himself, though his blank face still bore down on Morgause's downcast expression with uncommon fury.

"You saw an opportunity to have your revenge, and you took it." He said, disgustedly. "You just ran ahead and _impaled him-"_

Guinevere's grasp around him tightened comfortingly, as if trying to squeeze out the sudden grief and revulsion curling through him. Much had changed in his perception of his father recently, but hearing of how he died still cut Arthur to his very bone. He nodded imperceptibly, thankfully, at her, before remembering that Merlin was still talking.

"- didn't stop to see if he was holding her, didn't stop to think about anything else…" He ranted coldly, while Morgause's head dropped further. He had met her for the first time as an immovable knight, a force to be reckoned with; now, his long-lost sister looked smaller than anything he'd yet seen. A sharp chuckle made him look back at his best friend, the cruel smile on his face, and wonder if he ever really knew him at all. "But… the world is _a terrible place,_ isn't it?"

The words made Morgause look up at him in surprise, even as Arthur exchanged another confused glance with Guinevere and Hunith took another step back. Merlin carefully treaded over Morgana, and the shadows seemed to follow.

"…And thinking otherwise has only led to my wife being _run through._" He spat. Arthur felt impotent adrenaline surge to his exhausted legs, straining to get them to start running. "But I can fix it, Morgause, I can. All I need… is your life." He came to a stop, looming ominously above their scared faces. "Will you help me fix my mistakes, _sister?_"

Arthur's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, watching confusion and then understanding dawn on Morgause's tired face. Merlin smiled tightly, and she nodded.

"Yes." She whispered. "For her… _please."_

Merlin stretched long fingers towards her, clawing, like he was going to pull something from her, and it was suddenly so cold he could see his breath, see _Morgause's,_ as it drifted out of her mouth and _towards Merlin-_

_**SLAP!**_

The spell- or whatever it was- fell apart as Hunith's hand connected hard with Merlin's face.

The sorcerer stumbled back, still glowing eyes blinking in shock at his bristling mother, whose obvious fear was only overshadowed by her fury.

"Merlin, you stop this _this instant!"_ She scolded. Her harsh face softened. "I-I know what you're going through, but this is not the way."

For a moment, Arthur held his breath, watching Merlin clutch his red cheek, wondering what he would do. _Listen to her, _please_ listen to her._ And then he did the last thing any of them saw coming… he smiled.

"I could have saved Will, you know." He said, and Arthur saw now that it was a rueful smile, a pained one. Memories of sharp blue eyes and an obnoxious voice filled him, reminded him of the simple peasant who had sacrificed himself to save him. Who, he now knew, had lied and died a maligned sorcerer… to protect Merlin from _him._

They had never talked about Will. Neither could allow themselves to think too hard on what his death meant for the both of them.

Hunith's mouth worked soundlessly, before she found her voice. "Honey, I…"

"It's true, Mother." He said, shaking his shaggy head sadly. Even the opaque light couldn't hide the ancient sorrow in his eyes. "I knew, somewhere deep down, while he was telling me how _scared_ he was… I knew I could put that all that lost breath back into him. And I knew I would have to pay a terrible cost." He looked back at Morgana longingly. "But she's always been strong enough to pay that cost, y'know; always wanted me to realize I could do it too. So many lives wasted, when I could save them…"

And then he smiled again, genuinely, _worryingly._

"But it's okay now, Mother." He announced cheerfully, clapping dirty hands together in that way he had when he was getting ready to do chores. "Because Morgana and Will can come back_…_ _everyone _can come back."

Guinevere stiffened when those eyes swept over to her, and Arthur grit his teeth and held her even closer. "I can bring your parents back, Gwen!" He implored. When she didn't respond, he turned to Arthur.

"And your mother, too. I don't have their bodies, so it might be a bit tricky… but I can do it eventually, Arthur, I _know_ I can." The earnest smile faded, and Merlin's face took on a distant, haunted quality. "I can do _anything_…"

Hunith was openly crying now, keeping her distance but looking at her son searchingly, as if trying to find the boy that they had all loved. She didn't seem able to even talk anymore… Arthur knew the feeling. One person who didn't, however, was…

"So it was all another lie, then?" Guinevere said despondently from under his arm. Merlin looked back at her blankly, and with a comforting glance at Arthur she emerged from under his embrace. "All those things you said… about loving us, protecting us, wanting a world where we could all just _be happy?_ "

"O-of _course_ not!" Merlin said, as if scandalized. He sounded worryingly like Morgana. "I'm… I'm still that person, Gwen."

Guinevere gave him a slow, deliberate look from head to toe, before meeting his gold eyes with more bravery than she probably felt.

"Well I'm sorry, Merlin, but I'm not seeing the man who begged me to believe in him, so that everything would be okay." She said firmly. "I don't know _who_ is standing in front of me, talking about killing a woman with delight, but it's _not_ my friend."

Merlin reeled, as if he'd been slapped again, and for a second the light in his eyes flickered to reveal a yawning hurt that Arthur had to look away from… the look in them was so much like father. Judging by her guilty glance towards him, Morgause thought much the same… and he realized that she had those eyes, too. When Arthur could stomach looking back, he found that Merlin's glowing gaze was focused on Guinevere with more rage than any of them had ever seen from him.

"_Your friend_ was a weakling." Merlin sneered, opening and closing the hands at his sides as if grasping an invisible neck. "He did as little good as he could and thought it would be enough to make him a _good person._ People died all around him, while he just _pretended_ that being a '_good person'_ was worth more than stopping Uther's mad reign." A bitter laugh trickled out of cracked lips. "Do you know, I actually thought it _mattered_ that your prince over there would fix everything? _One day…"_

Arthur lifted his chin and focused, catching Merlin's eyes. And suddenly they were the only ones in the room…. and the prince- the _king-_ had his voice back.

"…I wanted to." Arthur said somberly. "I didn't know how, but I _wanted_ to."

"I know." Merlin admitted despondently. "But even if you do heal all the damage your father did to this kingdom, it wouldn't change anything. Because he still killed them all, because he still scared her and used her and _ruined her life and-!"_

Merlin broke off with a choking sound, and looked back at Morgana's quietly breathing form with open sorrow.

"…and I still let him."

The only sound in the black, ruined chamber was the sound of Hunith falling to her knees, in grief he supposed; both for the daughter-in-law she had grown to love, and the son who had been damaged seemingly beyond repair. Arthur swallowed, and for once, admitted defeat. _ I don't know how to reach you…_

"…And that's why you can't let him win again."

All pairs of eyes, both normal and glowing, snapped towards Morgause's, which were suddenly alive with a guilty resolve. Arthur gaped at her, and their eyes met briefly. _No…_

"We are… we are all guilty of allowing Uther to make this world." She continued mournfully, her bloodied hands clasped pensively in her lap. "If we had stood up for what was right; all of us, together… well, my husband would still be alive. And s-so would… _my sister…_"

"Morgause-!" Arthur stopped, and started again, forcing a word he was still struggling to use out of his mouth. "_Sister,_ please…"

For just a second, their eyes lingered… and the sadness, the _gratitude,_ written in the lines of her face, made something in Arthur flicker. It didn't matter that she had murdered the father he still loved beyond all reason, it didn't matter that Morgana had gone with him. It didn't even matter that she was a sorceress; in this moment, she was _family._

"Brother," She murmured with a wry smile. "Let me do this, for her…"

In his peripheral vision, he watched Merlin striding forward, unmoved by her display.

Arthur grimaced, and shot to his feet, planting himself on wobbling legs in front of Morgause.

"This is _not the way… Mer_lin." He commanded. "I… _I_ am the king now."

His Guinevere stood up beside him, placing a supportive hand on his arm; just the strength he needed.

"This is _my_ kingdom, Merlin." Arthur continued, watching the flicker of surprise cross his friends face. "And it will not be a place where power overrules justice, not anymore. And no… no matter _how powerful_ your magic makes you, _this is not just._"

"Arthur, stop-!"

Guinevere's queenly glance shut his sister's protests down hard, and he smirked as Morgause exchanged bewildered looks with Hunith. Merlin stared the both of them down with alien eyes.

"…You would leave your sister- _your true sister-_ to this… half-life?" He said slowly. "So that the _woman who killed her_ can live?"

Arthur's sought out Morgana, his oldest friend and closest confidante in childhood, looking ethereal and lifeless on the floor. In her white gown, she seemed to be the only light in the room.

"There must be a better way, Merlin," He proclaimed. "And Camelot will not _rest_ until we find it; for both her _and_ Gaius, I promise you." Arthur smiled encouragingly at him; an olive branch, if nothing else. "But we _must_ stand for something better… it was _you_ taught me that."

Merlin's face twisted into a derisive sneer.

"I'm done standing for something better."

With an angry twist of his wrist, he threw the both of them flying like ragdolls. They landed tangled together with the still twitching remains of Morgause's dark knights, sparing each other a second to make sure they were both okay, before helplessly watching Merlin gliding over to his still living sister, with inhuman speed.

"Merlin, no-!" Hunith cried.

Morgause closed her eyes, like she was _accepting it,_ accepting the death that he couldn't move fast enough to 's hand hurled a gout of fire towards her…

…And one gust later, a figure appeared in the middle of the flames and spread her arms wide. Like glass, the blaze shattered, not into shards but into _butterflies,_ flapping harmlessly around the throne room. Lit by the cinder of their bodies, they watched the familiar face shake out her hair.

Window after window, Merlin's dark veil lifted and the morning shone back through into the chambers, the light outside meeting the magical light of her eyes and of her creations, as she surveyed the room. With a huff, she put her fists on her hips and pinned her shocked husband with a stern expression.

"Honey…" Morgana smirked. "…you have some explaining to do."

###

**Third to last chapter kids! And I've got some big news; looks like we really are going from zero to sixty! I plan to get up another chapter Friday night, (!) and the final chapter on Saturday night! :O So excited to finally be closing this book; hope everybody finds it the ending serviceable. :)**

**2 to go!**


	36. House of Cards pt7

Watching Morgana die had been like seeing the light leave the world.

It was burned into Merlin's memory; her laying in his arms, blood pooling under her back and out of her bosom, eyes struggling to focus on him like he was all that mattered. Merlin didn't remember what he had been shouting at her- desperate pleas he guessed- but she didn't seem to even hear him. Her hand lifted one last time to stroke his cheek- he leaned into her touch, _and it was so cold-_ and her smiling lips worked silently around words that wouldn't come. And then her lashes fluttered, and her eyes closed, and her arm dropped, and he _felt_ her leave him.

And there was no hope.

Merlin would do anything to get her back…

"Honey… you have some explaining to do."

…Now he didn't have too. The light was back, and so was his Morgana. Before he knew what he was doing, Merlin was across the room and burying her into his chest. The tinkling of her laughter hit his ears- _Gods, I thought I'd never hear that sound again!-_ and those arms, thin but deceptively powerful, crushed him to her lithe body just as fiercely. He didn't even bother to fight the tears he shed into her luxurious hair, lips pressed against her forehead as if desperate for the taste of her again.

"You're home…" he whimpered into the shell of her ear.

"I promised you forever, did I not?" Over his protests, she pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, and smiled glowingly as his face leaned into her warm caress. "_There_ you are, love…"

Merlin caught his own reflection is her eyes, and saw that the shine in his had at last gone out. "I-I'm _so sorry,_ Morgana…"

"There is nothing to be sorry for, husband." She said industriously, taking both his hands as if willing him to believe it too.

"But I- this is all my fau-" Merlin cut himself off, as something occurred to him. "…Morgana, _how_?"

His wife sobered, simply looking at him with a certain expression and a certain grief that he'd only ever seen for one person. Merlin released her, and backed away slowly.

"No…"

"I met Gaius on the other side." Morgana admitted, the simple words hitting him like fists to his gut. Her beautiful face twisted in a sad grimace, as her eyes fell to the floor. "He… sacrificed himself, so I could have a second chance. So _we_ could."

Merlin was forced to stop when his back hit one of the few remaining pillars, shaking the dirty fringe out of his eyes.

Gaius was, at last, dead. _Dead._

"It wasn't supposed to happen like that…" he murmured to the floor. "I was gonna save him…"

"Yes, I know all about your _lovely_ plan." Morgana said, suddenly directly in front of him. As always, he felt his body bending towards hers almost against his will, and she briefly smirked at him before setting her jaw. "Did you really think either of us would condone being brought back to life by murder?"

Merlin reared his head back at her. How could she say- did she just think he would have _let it go?_ Finding his voice, he swallowed and moved closer. "You've always been homicide's biggest champion, at least before."

His wife smiled contritely. "Yes, but that was before. And that was wrong." Green and blue eyes bracketed them together, and a soft hand came to rest over his beating heart. He couldn't get away from her if he wanted too; as if he ever would. "Do you hear me, my love? _I was wrong,_ and you were right."

For the longest time, they simply stood there, gazing into each other's souls in silence. And Merlin remembered all those arguments, all those times when she wanted him to kill for her and, like a fool, he clung to the innocence he had long since lost. So much wasted time, so much pain… how could he have been right, when everything was so clear to him now?

Morgana's hands came up to clutch his face firmly, and her magic laced his entire body, sidled inside to swirl together with his own. There was something different about her now; an iron core and a quiet peace that he had once known, before he had become… _this._ For once, she was the one trying to anchor him from the madness, and it was almost working.

"_Don't you do that, Merlin."_ Her silken voice whispered within him. _"I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I was never trying to kill Uther for the greater good, or for your protection, that was just a bonus; I wanted revenge. I knew it was hurting you, but I kept trying to make it happen anyway."_

"_That's not true."_ Merlin's contrary grimace and crashing waves of cold magic fought back. _"And besides, what's so terrible about revenge?"_

Morgana pulled back an inch, eyes wide, magic momentarily stilled. "_Please… don't say that…_"

He grasped her wrists lovingly, one hand tracing the worn blue silk that matched the band around his own, and pulled her closer with a smile. _"Why not? He _hurt you_, so he should hurt too; it's so obvious I don't know why I didn't see it before. Well, Gaius always talked me down, I guess…"_ A thought hit him like a club to the skull, and judging by her face, it had reached her too.

"Merlin, no…" She said aloud, as he pushed her away with a loving smile, and walked towards Morgause. With a single incantation, a bolt of light burst from his palm, tearing towards her to release _all_ the precious life wasted on her, ready to be redistributed to a soul more deserving. Gaius had already been revived with one witch's life… what was one more?

"Dammit, Merlin!"

Morgana grabbed his wrist and wrenched it skyward, forcing the burning spear still connected to it upwards as well, where it pierced the ceiling harmlessly and dispersed. Their eyes locked, still frozen with her holding his arm in that position, as the rubble fell.

"Gaius doesn't _want_ to come back."

Merlin just stared back defiantly.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" She said, inches from his face. "You and I both know this isn't about Gaius; you want _revenge_ because my sister took me away from you."

"…She deserves it." He said, hoping the tremor in his voice didn't show how shaken he was. "And Gaius deserves to come back."

For a moment they stayed like that, husband and wife, hard eyes bound to each others. And then, with a hard growl, Morgana kneed him as hard as she could, in her favorite part of his body. While he was still shouting in pain, she promptly punched him in the face.

Merlin collapsed holding his nose, noting the large cut made by the wedding ring he had given her. Oh, his wife was back, alright.

"_Stay down,_ love." She ordered from above, her expression pleading. "_Please…"_

With a swirl of white fabric, she was gone.

###

Morgana bit her lip as she walked away from Merlin, heading back towards her shell-shocked sister.

_So cold…_ she thought. Merlin's magic had never felt this bleak, this _hollow_ before. He had always been alive inside; like the sun on a warm day, full of hope and possibility. _I took that from you, didn't I?_

"Morgana…?" Morgause said in awe, looking up at her from where she still sat on the floor. Her sister looked, frankly, pathetic; hunched over and bloodied, swaying where she was seated from the effort of staying upright. Morgana glared at the bruises all over her, remembering the briefest vision of her gentle husband inflicting them with mad fervor.

_I'm not sure if I can reach him…_

"Are you alright, sister?" Morgana said with an encouraging smile, kneeling carefully behind her. She laughed with false mirth and shook her head. "I'm sorry, that was a terribly dim question; of course you're not."

Morgause watched her in wonder as Morgana put her hands on her back, where the most damage was, and _pushed _her magic outwards. A vast litany of healing spells plucked from across time, things she frankly had no business knowing but wasn't about to give up, converged on her battered sister, engulfing them in a stunning white light.

Over her shoulder, Morgana caught Merlin staggering to his feet- _not listening, as always._ The look on his face as he watched her lightshow made her spine tingle, and despite how worried and how _angry_ she was, Morgana couldn't help the bright smile on her face. All the misplaced fury in the world couldn't stop her husband from returning it.

There was hope after all.

The light faded, and she exhaled in relief that the complex spellwork was finished. Morgause traced her hands over herself in amazement; even her _armor _had been repaired. Probably feeling much better, Morgana surmised, she quickly turned around to face her sister, taking her hands with her own.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Morgana." She said solemnly; Morgana cursed the brewing tears in those brown eyes, which were making her well up too. "I never meant to- I should have _looked-_ please, forgive me."

Merlin was still watching.

"Sister, there's nothing to forgive." Morgana said soothingly. "I'm _okay, _Morgause, I am, and you will be too." She grinned, with perhaps more strength then she felt. "We _all_ will."

Morgause returned her smile with one brighter than any she'd ever seen, not even bothering to stem her tears. Morgana held her happy gaze for a moment, and looked at her husband's silhouette meaningfully for another, before turning away from both.

"Arthur, Gwen!" She shouted towards the rubble, where she could clearly see her brother and future sister-in-law struggling to their feet. The was no fighting the smile it brought to her face, the way the mighty Arthur Pendragon leaned on her maid as if she were his rock. "Are you alright?"

For a moment they just looked at her, then at each other, and then at Merlin, (who ducked his head shamefully) before Gwen nodded carefully.

"A-a little banged up, but I think we'll be okay."

"Hunith?"

Merlin's wonderful mother gulped down a breath and nodded from where she now stood, looking torn between wanting to run to her or to her son. Morgana grinned at her; even after all the frightening things she knew Merlin had done today, little had changed for his mother.

"Splendid!" She said, putting her hands on her hips and turning back to her Merlin. "You see, darling? All is well."

Merlin eyed her warily, taking a few shaky steps forward.

"Gaius isn't, is he?"

The urge to slug him again was doused by the ache in her heart at the very real grief in his voice. They had all been preparing for the moment when Gaius would finally pass, but now that it was finally here it didn't quite seem to want to be dealt with. Morgana sighed and swept towards him earnestly.

"This is what Gaius _wants,_ Merlin." She said. "When I saw him again… he was the one who suggested I use his life to come back to you." His brow furrowed; he didn't want to believe her, but he was too tired to really help himself. "More than that, he _wanted_ to go. His has been a _long_ life, and he deserves the chance to sleep."

Morgana slid her hand up his arm, gently begging the man she knew was still in there to come back to her. His eyes roved over her face hungrily, as if searching not just for comfort, but for some proof that she was lying. Finally- _finally-_ the wildness receded from that beloved face, leaving him looking small and vulnerable.

There were no words for what she could feel from him at the moment. It was too much grief for one person to bear, and Morgana knew it wasn't just Gaius that had caused it. It was _everyone,_ all those he'd failed and all those he'd killed, the things he'd never ever let himself dealt with no matter how hard she tried. Her death had been the very large straw that had broken the horse's back; broken Merlin. And now he didn't even have his revenge to protect himself from it.

Anxiously, she swallowed, and prayed she had chosen the right words for what she was about to do.

"Merlin… take a look around you." For a moment, he just watched her exhaustedly, but when she inclined her chin forcefully he relented with a sigh. She studied his face, watching his wounded eyes gradually widen as they fell on the faces of everyone around him, seeing their desperate hope that she could stop him mixed with a very real fear that she wouldn't be able too. And Morgana nearly crumpled in relief when she felt the dam on his guilt finally break, because _he understood._

"Mother, I… _I…"_ Merlin faltered mid-sentence, unable to even begin. Hunith nodded tearfully at him; she wasn't ready to go to him, not after what he'd almost done today, but she forgave him. It was a start. Tears bloomed on his face as he passed over Morgause, now looking pristine and empathetic but still standing in a pool of the blood he had shed from her; and Arthur and Gwen, who looked at him like a wild animal about to attack any second. Unable to cope with that, he finally just turned back to her helplessly, and she stilled his ashamed panic by placing her hands on his face yet again.

"Now… I want you to look up, my love." Morgana encouraged, a bittersweet smile on her face. With almost childlike trust in her, Merlin raised his head up to the ceiling.

Painting the rafters bright orange was their favorite bit of magic, the Lorensian butterflies, flapping and playing mindlessly with each other. The tiny embers that were shed from each flap of their wings finally reached the ground, a slow rain of red and gold falling all around them. Almost against his will, a gorgeous grin blossomed on Merlin at the sight. He allowed her hands to again guide him, back to her eyes.

"Around you, is all the pain and the fear you've created with your magic today." Morgana said calmly. "Above you, are beautiful things you _used_ to make with it."

Merlin swallowed audibly, gazing at her as if she were all in that existed in the world. Lovingly, she whispered a few more spells, the magic undulating from her fingers and rinsing his beautiful skin clean of all the grime that had caked it.

"On the worst night of my life, when I needed somebody to rescue me," Morgana began again, thumbs brushing the tears from his face. "…I was saved by a very wise, _very_ handsome man, and he told me this; magic is like _fire_…it can either burn you to death, or it can light the dark."

Standing on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips gently against his, her breath whispering loving words inside of him.

"_So, which do you want to be, love? The pyre or the candle?"_

And with a sob and kiss, Merlin collapsed into her arms. Morgana stroked his hair as he cried, drawing out and smothering the guilt and the grief with a shower of kisses. Neither of them was aware of the other four in the room, gathering around them, or the butterflies that swept down to cocoon them all in warmth. All they knew, swimming in their own little world, was each other.

"_Forever, Morgana…"_

The lady grinned into his crown tearfully.

"_Forever, Merlin."_

And they were home.

###

There is a lake, like any other. Only it's not.

If you look at it from just the right angle in just right way, you'll see another world… you'll see _Avalon._

But today, nobody was willing to look. Avalon was only for one man to see today, and his name was Gaius.

Standing on the sandy shore, Merlin eased a sigh from his throat as he lowered his hand, in time with the wife he had watched die to his left and the sister-in-law he tried to kill to his right. (Yes, definitely a strange few days…) He had been immensely grateful that Morgause had chosen to join them in lighting the fire on Gaius' little boat; but then again, he had gotten her out of Camelot as a child and brought Morgana back to them, so he supposed she owed the court physician quite bit, too.

They all did, really.

Arthur, Gwen, and his Mother joined them at last from where they had been watching from a safe distance. Morgana entwined her fingers in his, sparing him a loving glance before, together, the six of them stood in silence as witnesses to the burning raft floating away… and out of sight.

"I almost wish it was a bigger burial." His wife mused. "All of Camelot deserves to honor his death."

Merlin opened his mouth for a moment, before closing it again. He still didn't quite know how to talk to any of them, after what he had done. Morgana noticed, and rubbed consoling circles into his hand with her thumb.

"My uncle would have liked it like this." Mother sniffled. "Small and quiet; though much grander than he would have thought he deserved, I reckon!"

"Not as 'grand' as my _father's_ funeral will be, I'm sure." Arthur exhaled, smiling thankfully as Gwen rested her head on his caped shoulder. "Not to mention the coronation… three massive events at once, I don't know _how_ the people will deal."

Gwen raised an amused eyebrow at him. "That's only two, dear."

Arthur smirked enigmatically at her.

"So, what happens now?" Morgause joined in, looking drained beyond belief. Merlin swallowed when their eyes met and looked away. The guilt was already eating at him, even though he knew the primary reason for the older woman's mood was Uther. Obtaining her revenge at long last hadn't been nearly as fulfilling as she had hoped, and now she had nothing to protect her from her grief. Merlin shuddered to think that he would be just like her, had he actually gone through with… _it…_

"Back to Camelot, I suppose?" Morgana said cheerfully; they may have lost someone today, but they had gotten all of each other back as well, and that was certainly more than enough to lift his wife's spirits. She caught his look and winked; perhaps her issues with Camelot had fled her with her father's slaying?

"Yes, I'm dying for some pheasant." Mother said, famished, as she began to lead them back to the forest path and the horses. "Does anyone want me to make some?"

"That would be lovely, Hunith." Morgause said, the first stirrings of a smile on her face as she followed; Morgana grinned and pulled him along after her. For the first time in a while, Merlin allowed a sincere smile to light him up… for once, everything was going to-

"No."

Arthur had planted his sword in the sand in front them, striking rockbed with a metallic twang. Behind him, Mother and Gwen exchanged worried looks as the new king quite literally drew a line the sand.

"You're not coming." He said, with the air of someone forced to say something distasteful.

Merlin winced and drew away from him, but Morgana's hand on the small of his back kept him steady. Side-by-side with her sister, she stared her brother down.

"_Arthur,"_ she said warningly. "…what's going on?"

Cape flapping in the wind, Arthur rested his hands on the sword's pommel, and fought down the sympathy and regret that showed plainly on his face. For a long minute, he just looked at each of them in turn, before at last he began to speak in his 'royal prat' voice.

"These past few days, I have had my entire world turned upside down." He said slowly, somewhere between eager to confess his thoughts and reluctant to share. "A troll- _a filthy, evil troll,_ came into my kingdom after trying to kill my- my sister, and enchanted me to do its will."

"Arthur..." Gwen began, taking a step forward, but for once he seemed wholly focused away from her.

"Have any of you ever _been_ enchanted?" He snarled. The three of them exchanged worried, helpless looks. "Well, it's _hell._ Everything you are is just-just _locked up,_ and gnawed at like food for the spell, until you're broken down and molded into this new… _thing,_ all for her pleas-"

Arthur caught himself, shaking his head inscrutably, and continued. "But even if you _can_ fight it, the best you can hope to reach is this mad half-state between you and _it… _and you still can't stop it. It tried to take the woman I love and the love I have for her, _do you know what that feels like?_"

Another awkward pause. Arthur trailed off, looking past them as if they weren't there.

"It almost made me kill her." He whispered, and for the first time Merlin realized how well he'd been hiding the extent of his trauma. He fought the urge to go to Arthur as he broke off, feeling both women next to him wincing in sympathy. The king looked scarred, haunted, and trying so hard to pull himself together, it… it was heartbreaking. The sword had begun to rattle with the way his hands were shaking as he spoke, until finally Gwen reached him, and her hand on his over the hilt seemed to drain away the shuddering.

"I cannot stand the idea of it." Arthur said finally, raising his chin royally. "That something like that should _exist…_ and that there are so many who could inflict it."

"That was _troll_ magic." Morgause supplied softly. When he darted a hard look at her, she gave Morgana an apologetic look and conceded that… "Although, there hundreds of love potions any wizard could-"

"It's _wasn't_ love!" Arthur spat. "B-besides, that's not all that's bothering me. Not only did said troll do… _that…_ not only did it open up an abyssal _hole_ in my throne room with a few dusty words-"

"I can fix that!" Morgana offered helpfully.

"_I don't want you to fix_-" Arthur sighed, and began again. "_Aside_ from that, my two new sisters also came barging in with explosions and fireballs and-and a squadron of _the undead_, the crushed pieces of whom are _still_ trying to move-"

"Mm, I can fix that." Morgause nodded to herself.

Gwen silenced them all with a heavy look. "I think what Arthur is trying to say, is that… we're afraid."

"I am _not-"_ She turned the look on Arthur before he even finished his sentence. "_Fine;_ yes, we're afraid."

Silence reigned. Each of them struggled to come to terms with the idea… the realization that, perhaps, thinks weren't going to change as much as they'd hoped. With an encouraging glance from his Mother, and one look at the quiet fear on his wife's face, Merlin finally spoke up.

"There's more to magic than its dark side, Arthur." He murmured, voice raspy from lack of use. Arthur's eyes widened, and he lunged towards him, only stopping when Morgana appeared in-between them warningly. Still, he looked directly over her head at Merlin.

"_Don't_ _you dare."_ He said, and Merlin actually winced at the venom- the betrayal- coating his tongue. "Not after today."

Sparing one look at his sisters, Arthur turned and walked back towards Gwen, shaking his head. Merlin put his hands on his wife's shoulders, kissing her hair before moving past her and after his friend. He'd lost too much, caused too much pain already; he was _not_ about to let this go.

"I know I have a lot of trust to earn back." Merlin said, stopping as he stopped, leaving him on opposite sides of the line, facing him only with the Pendragon emblem on his cape. "And… and maybe I'm not sure how to do that, but do I know where to start. Arthur, _I'm so sorry."_

The blue eyes glaring at him over his shoulder softened imperceptibly.

"Not just for… today, but for everything. I never wanted to lie to you, I was just… I was too messed up to think of a better way." Merlin admitted guiltily. And it was the truth; nearly two years together now, and for all his excuses Merlin knew that keeping his secret was just one more way of dodging real responsibility. "But, despite that, I need you to know; for better or worse, everything I've done, I've done for you. Th-that has to count for… something?"

Arthur spun around to face him, angry tears blurring his outraged expression. "It used to count for _everything!"_ He roared in his face; Merlin schooled his features, determined not to back down. "The knowledge that somebody supported me, fought with me, _laughed with me,_ not out of duty to my future reign _but just because of who I am!_" After a long moment, Arthur sobered, taking a single step back into Gwen's sad embrace. "But it turns out that that was just another trick, and you were just another person trying to use me."

Merlin swallowed and looked down at the sand- and the line in it- in shame. Morgana's smooth hand slid over his shoulder, as she came to stand beside him boldly.

"That's not true Arthur." She said fiercely, her eyes piercing straight through his armor. "I don't know how to convince you of it, but somehow I don't think I have to. Deep down, you already know what he's done for you... don't you?"

Arthur looked away bitterly.

"…So, what are you saying, brother?" Morgause said levelly, coming to stand beside him as well. Arthur stared her down for a moment, before lifting his chin again.

"I will not allow magic- or its practitioners- into my kingdom."

Merlin sought Morgana's eyes immediately, sharing in her horror. Morgause bared her teeth. "So… _so…_ it seems the apple does not fall very far after all."

"Don't compare me to _him."_ Arthur fired back with a sneer. "I'll never be like him."

"You're doing a _very_ good impression." Morgause rejoined sourly. Morgana's other hand came to rest on her arm, as she tried to get her to stop escalating, but Merlin could see it was already too late.

"I will not execute any but the most heinous of sorcerers; this is _not_ another Purge, _sister."_ Arthur declared. "But I cannot abide by magic, it is…" He shifted anxiously. "No one should have that much power. No one."

"You're banishing us." Merlin choked out, one arm around his wife's waste, wanting to feel her comforting warmth. She fell into the particular crook she always found in his neck easily, blowing the hair out of her face to better glare. "That's it, isn't it? We are no longer allowed inside Camelot."

For the longest time, Merlin and Arthur just stared at each other in silence. The king's face betrayed his grief; the loss he felt, not just for his father, but for his friendship with Merlin and for Merlin himself, the boy he thought he knew. And the young warlock realized, then, that as horrible as his experience with the troll must have been, at the end of the day this was about _Merlin himself._ Not just the lie, but the power-mad trip he had gone on. How could he ever convince him of the truth, when he had first seen his magic used like _that?_

"_Don't admit defeat yet, Merlin."_ Morgana said into him. He looked own at her in surprise, to meet her warm green eyes. _"Give him time."_

After a moment of just watching her, Merlin gave a nod and a small smile, and wrapped her up in his arms. How lucky he was, to have this woman in his life, and be able to finally show the world how he felt whenever he wanted, just by holding her. Suffused with new strength, Merlin met Arthur's eyes again.

"I'm not giving up on you." He said with a smirk, sliding his eyes over to Gwen, whose stony façade was quickly chipping away to reveal that instinctive compassion she couldn't hide. "Either of you. And one day, you're gonna forgive me."

Arthur swallowed and started admiring his sword before Merlin could see how much that affected him, but Gwen gave him the slightest sparkling smile.

The almost fuzzy moment was ruined when Morgause stomped directly over the line, sidling up into Arthur's personal space with a glower. "I thought I could actually trust you; _believe in you."_ She said in a low voice. "I should have known better. And you should have known that we will not stand for this."

Arthur mouth twisted. "I already _told_ you, I'm not going to kill innocent people, magic or not."

Morgause sneered. "You think that'd good enough? You run us from our homes, just like our father, and tell us we're _wrong_ just because of what we are, and you think we will just accept it with a smile?" The mocking smirk on her face dropped harshly. "_We deserve a better world, my brother."_

Arthur fought hard to hide how much her words reached him. "Then kill me now, and be done with it."

Morgause drew back as if slapped. She just looked at him, and then lowered her gaze. "That throne is mine too, you know." Said her challenging voice. "It's belongs to you just as much as it belong to my son and I."

Merlin knew Morgana felt him stiffen; _Mordred._

Arthur nodded, and with a hand on Gwen's back began guiding her past his bewildered Mother. "Then come take it, if you must."

"Oh, we will." Morgause called after him. "You stand no chance against the three most powerful sorcerers in Camelot."

…

"Wait, what?" Merlin said. Arthur and Morgause both turned to look at him expectantly, and he realized; they both expected him to join his sister-in-law in fighting this new Camelot. Contritely, Merlin turned and shared a look with his wife, one single look, that didn't need magic to speak volumes. Gratefully, he gave her a light kiss, relishing doing it in front of everyone, until he could finally convince himself to break away so that they could answer.

"We will not join you, sister." Morgana said, perhaps a little regretfully but with firm conviction. Slack-jawed, Morgause strode closer in the heavy sand.

"Sister, you would- you would let this stand?" She exclaimed. "After _everything_ we went through to free magic from our father?"

"No, _we_ won't stand for it." Morgana replied cordially, but defiantly. Merlin smiled glowingly down at her.

"We'll free magic our own way, without violence." He said, eyes passing over Morgause and Arthur's wide eyes, and Gwen and Mother's proud ones. "I think we've both had more than enough killing in our lifetime."

Morgana shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, sister, but I cannot follow you down this road." She broke into a sad smile. "Please, give Mordred my best; and raise him the way Cerdan would have wanted. He can be a great Druid, sister, he needs only the guidance to keep him just."

Morgause nodded dumbly, still blindsided that they weren't joining her efforts. Something close to a sob spilled from her lips, "Will I ever see you again?"

"Oh, _of course!"_ Morgana laughed, leaving his side to take her sisters' hands. "If I've proved anything today, it's that you're _not_ getting rid of me."

Morgause laughed, perhaps a bit morbidly as she realized they were joking about her _killing_ her sister, and finally she pulled away. "Then, this is not goodbye. Merely… til next time."

"Til next time." Morgana answered, with that beautiful smile. Morgause nodded, and looking only at her, vanished inside a whirlwind.

Merlin held his wife as she sighed, giving him a half-smile and a lap of her magic against him to know that she was okay. They both turned to look at Arthur and Gwen.

"…Til next time, then." Gwen said longingly, and with a hand on his arm she led Arthur away into the forest. To his own surprise, Merlin smiled as he watched them go; somehow, he had the oddest feeling that things might just be okay eventually. Arthur's lingering eye may have had something to do with that.

Mother came up to them, grimacing sympathetically. "I'm _so_ sorry." She said, brushing a hand against his forehead tenderly. Merlin batted it away affectionately, inciting a wonderful peal of laughter from Morgana, and simply shrugged.

"They need time." He said, giving his wife a significant look. "A lot's happened recently; a lot to work through."

"But don't worry, Hunith," Morgana joined in hopefully, burying herself back into his arms where she belonged. "Arthur will be a magnificent king, one day, like no other; he just needs somebody to light his way. I think Gwen has that job covered very well."

Merlin chuckled. _"Another vision, or a wish?"_

Morgana cocked an eyebrow up at him. _"Both."_

"Then, where will you go?" Hunith said, unable to disguise the hope in her voice as she said… "You're always welcome at Ealdor."

Before Merlin could reply, his wife cut him off. "Oh, believe me, Hunith, you will want to have as much time for yourself as possible when you get home."

Merlin nodded, only a bit confused. "I… think it's time Morgana and I built our _own_ home." He said gently, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

"Truly, Hunith, go home." Morgana smiled enigmatically. "Word of Uther's death travels fast, and you have a surprise waiting."

No matter how hard Merlin quizzed her about it later, when his Mother had gone after Arthur and Gwen and catch a ride, Morgana refused to tell him what she had meant.

"You'll see for yourself soon, love." She grinned, sliding the tunic off his shoulders as he pressed her up against a tree. Stopping for half a-second, her warm fingers grazed over his forehead, entranced. "There's so much left for you to see… I can't _wait_ to show you."

Merlin just pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers.

"Thank you… for saving me, I mean."

Morgana smiled through her tears. "Thank _you_ for saving _me."_

###

**Just barely edged out by ch15 for longest chapter ever. I get decompressed when I get excited. :/**

**Sorry about making everything better and then breaking it again. In my defense, um… it'll be okay? :D**

**1 more chapter to fix all this, on Saturday night! Happy ending, woo! ^0^**


	37. Turn the Page

"I should have done more for you."

Morgana raised her head from his bare chest to level a heavy look at him. Her husband was glowing, the both of them on the edge of a very sated sleep where they lay amongst the leaves. Merlin's eyes- no longer caught in that terrible frozen glow- stared blankly up at the twinkling stars peeking through the forest canopy. She sighed and began pecking him playfully along the collar bone, trying to pull him out of his daze; she knew all that had happened would stay with them for years to come.

"Everything that's happened; you, Arthur, it's all-" Merlin's sorrowful words stopped when she aggressively claimed his lips for her own, leading him into a dance he had no power to resist. When she at last felt the edges of his pain slip away, Morgana pulled back, propping her head up on her arms, elbows on either side of his bemused face.

"I don't want to hear another self-flagellating word out of those lovely lips," She said tenderly. "It's just as much my fault as it is yours."

Merlin furrowed his brow, but again she halted his words, this time with a finger to his lips.

"And don't tell me you didn't do enough," Morgana commanded. "Merlin, you saved my life; more than that, _you make me happy._ Nobody has ever done what you do for me."

His eyes softened beautifully as she inattentively traced circles on the pillow of his bottom lip. "It is _I_ who should have done more for you." She admitted. "I knew how much pain the idea of hurting people caused you, but still I made you face it at every turn. I was trying to change you into something you would hate, because it would service me; and _I'm so, so sorry_."

"Don't say that." Merlin cried, gently sitting them both up until they were lit aglow in a shaft of moonlight. "I was the one trying to change you; make you think you should just be quiet and accept everything that _bastard_ did to you. I was so scared of losing myself like… like Nimueh, or all the others, that I tried to keep you in that same box as well. Just like Uth-"

Morgana wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, stealing the breath from those words before they could finish. For a second they were both frozen, savoring the feel, before he retuned her smirk and shut his mouth. "Don't ever say that, my love." She murmured, loosening her hold and nuzzling her nose against his. "My father was a lot of things- not all of them bad- but at his best he was nothing compared to you." She shuddered and groaned into his ear as his hands traced up her naked back. "My Merlin…"

"Then… perhaps we _both _need to be better for each other?" Merlin proposed, the earnest tone making her shift to look him in the eye. "And for the world."

Morgana gave him a slow smile, raising a hand to caress the spot on his face where shadows played over his cheekbone. "I saw a lot of things, while I was gone…" she said wistfully. "And if there was one thing I learned, it was that the future- any future- doesn't just _happen_ to you. We have to work at it, and we will. We'll make the Golden Age come anew, for everyone, and we'll do it the right way; _your_ way."

"No," Merlin cut in forcefully. "We'll find a _new _way… one that's better than mine; _our_ way."

Morgana laughed gratefully in the moonlight, overcome with just how lucky she was, and rested her crown against his. After a long moment of just relishing in the feel of him, there in the moonlight, she spoke teasingly.

"Close your eyes."

Merlin just cocked a bemused eyebrow.

"_Close your eyes,_ Merlin." She laughed, impishly drawing his eyelids down with two fingers, as he humored her with a deep laugh. "I have a _very late_ wedding present to give you."

Morgana's fingers splayed over the sides of his face, drawing him into her lips, and into the future.

###

A pair of eyes, one green and one blue, watched from the leaves, tracking a dark-haired woman and a tall, bearded man as they cross the paths. Their owner grinned evilly; at last, her master plan had come to fruition! The couple laughed at some odd joke of theirs, _the fools,_ never noticing the tripwire they were about to step in, until… _yes!_

As the burly man's large boot stepped on the wire, a massive crate opened in the canopy above them, dropping a veritable storm of eggs onto their faces with a splat. Laughing madly, she burst from the foliage, flaring the black cape her father had given her for dramatic effect.

"Bwahaha!" She cackled, pointing at her two very annoyed victims. "You fell for it! **Brimstone the Bold** wins again!"

Brushing egg off her shoulder, Hunith calmly grabbed one of the few eggs not to spill its yolk and tossed it at her granddaughter, who dodged it with an 'eep'. The large man caught her as she attempted to escape back towards home, and she couldn't help but laugh breathlessly as he gave her a humongous bear hug.

"Ah, I see somebody's still working on their manners," Balinor said gruffly, but with affection in his eyes. "Aren't you, little Gaia?"

Gaia- aka, **Brimstone the Bold,** queen of all she surveyed- stuck her tongue out at her grandfather like a good little seven year old. "Pssh, you're just cross that the mighty Dragonlord can't see through my _cunning ploys- _ah, hey, st-stop that!"

Hunith, who had sidled up to her husband, decided to break off the merciless tickle attack long enough to pull some yolk off Balinor's beard. When she was done with that their eyes met and they just sort of ignored her, gazing lovingly at each other for, like, _three jillion years._

Love was really annoying, Gaia had always thought. Especially marriage. All the grown-ups were obsessed with it, _especially_ her parents.

"MORGAIA PENDRAGON!"

Speaking of…

A tornado burst into life in the forest clearing, which Mama swept out of in full 'towering inferno' mode, the emerald silk of her pretty dress meshing perfectly with the trees, and not so perfectly with all the yolk on the ground. The Lady Morgana- still a lady, Gaia insisted, even though her mother hadn't been a noblewoman in quite some time- took one look at the chaos around her, passed her eyes over her yolked grandparents, and settled them disapprovingly on her.

"When I asked you to help prepare the dinner tonight," She scolded with crossed arms. "…that was not actually secret sorcerer code for 'go egg your relatives', _Morgaia."_

Gaia just blew another raspberry over her grandfather's arm. Mama _always_ used her full name, knowing how much it annoyed her. With a roll of her lime eyes, Mama made a flourishing motion and all evidence of her genius egg trap vanished. Gaia whooped and clapped; magic was _so_ amazing.

Mama grinned at her enthusiasm, though quickly schooled her pretty face back into a disapproving glance. "I'm sorry about her, Balinor." She said to her Grandpa, in that infuriating way grown-ups had of talking about you like you weren't there. Gaia huffed as she was handed off to her mother, who stashed her under her arm like a sack of potatoes. "You know how she gets when _your son_ starts encouraging her."

Balinor gave a rare grin. "Now, why he is always _my_ boy when he's being a flopbrain?"

"Because I don't make up words, honey." Hunith chimed in.

A snort sounded from somewhere close-by. Mama looked at the leaves for a moment, before giving her daughter an amused glance. "I should have known."

Gaia pouted. Curses, they'd found her minion-!

"Oh, Merlin!" Morgana called out cheerfully. "If you don't come out on the count of five, you're not getting any of that certain _dessert_ you love so much tonight."

Papa came bursting out of the undergrowth in an instant, brushing leaves out of his hair. Gaia pointed dramatically. "Ah, how did _you_ get in there?" She said, in her best, most stage-worthy acting voice.

"Don't bother, sweetie, neither of you is getting out of this." Mama cooed in triumph, patting her on the top of her messy bedhead sarcastically. Gaia affectionately batted her hand away, not missing her Grandma's amused look with Papa. "So, Merlin, _this_ is what you've been doing this morning."

Papa shrugged with a helpless little grin; Gaia wished she had inherited his ability to not be cowed when he got caught. "Well, it was either team up with our daughter to prank my parents or set the table… and, come on, you have to admit, this was pretty good." he said shamelessly, giving Gaia a mock thumbs up that she returned with the utmost gravity. "Besides, at least this way I can make sure it's a normal prank, and not one involving overwrought _fowl _magic she has no business knowing."

"IT WAS ONE TIME!" Gaia shouted mournfully, her annoyance only building when everybody just laughed. The memory of her summoning a flock of birds to call her father names for twelve hours was still fresh. (She often thought he could have dispelled them in a half-second… the fact that he didn't, just to make her feel like she really _was_ the great sorceress she dreamed of being, filled her little heart with love.)

"You say that like you didn't retaliate." Mama said wryly, and she and her grandparents did this sort of simultaneous sigh that was even more annoying. The scars of the Magical Prank War still lingered, especially when they had somehow pulled Mama into it…

"Okay, okay, I concede already!" Papa laughed, sauntering up to both of them. "I promise, I'll make it up to you tonight."

"Oh, will you?" Mama smirked, and they just did that 'stare forever' thing again.

Gaia huffed. "Marriage is _so_ stupid."

Her family burst out laughing, as they always did when she spoke her mind.

"I thought the same thing when I was your age," Mama said, readjusting her so she could look her in the eye. "But one day, Morgaia… one day I promise you'll meet someone who will change _everything_ for you."

Gaia watched her parents look at each other again, the way their eyes sparkled in the sunlight like they were the only people in the world, and gave them a small smile.

If it could make the people she loved this happy, maybe marriage wasn't so dumb, after all.

###

_By the gods…_

_I know._

_She's- she's-_

_**Beautiful,**__ isn't she?_

…_We did that, Morgana?_

_We _made_ that, Merlin._

###

From above, Merlin and Morgana watched the vision unfurl.

Deep in the woods, at the base of cliff with a little waterfall, next to its basin and the river that flows from it, there is a house. On the outside, it is only moderately sized, with vines growing up the side of it and a simple garden in the yard. On the inside, teeming with magic even the most learned Druids would be baffled with, lays a whole other world.

They watched Arthur and Gwen meet their future selves in the cobblestone entrance hall, admiring as usual the odd meshing of Merlin's more down to earth tastes and Morgana's extravagant opulence. Peeking out from behind her mother's resplendent violent gown was the perpetually shy face of their daughter Ygraine, whose blonde curls wonderfully complemented her pale brown skin. After her grandparents headed on in to get settled, Gaia caught sight of her cousin and tackled her in a fierce hug, begging to know how her lessons with Sir Leon are going.

"Oh, um, very well." Little Ygraine said quietly, and for once drew herself up with pride. "Father says I'm learning the sword even faster than he did!"

"Wow, that's amazing!" Gaia exclaimed, wide-eyed at her best friend's progress. Abruptly, she turned to look up at the king. "Hey, Uncle Arthur, Uncle Arthur!"

Arthur shared an amused glance with Merlin, and smiled obligingly down at his niece. "Yes, Gaia?"

"Do you think I could come train with Ygraine in Camelot some time?" She asked innocently, fully employing the big sad eyed look she'd inherited from her father. Arthur looked at the adults, first at Gaia's banished parents, and then at his wife's subtle smile. With a small shake of his head, the king looked back at his sorceress niece.

"I think Camelot would love to have you." Arthur said at last, and the others in the room released breaths they didn't know they'd been holding.

"Oh, good!" Gaia clapped her little hands excitedly. "Ygraine thinks that the best swordspeople are there, and I wanna prove to her that Mama is better!"

"I-I never said Father and Leon were better than Aunt Morgana!" Ygraine blanched, turning to look mournfully at her aunt. "I swear, I didn't!"

"Oh, darling, it's alright if you did!" Morgana laughed. "Although, remind me to tell you of that one time your father challenged me to a duel in front of the whole guard-"

"Al-alright, so, how about dinner, then?" Arthur interrupted, hastily ushering his laughing wife and their intrigued daughter into the dining room. Morgana and Merlin shared looks and a quick, promising kiss, before following.

The oak table was full to the brim with food of every kind; all cooked by Merlin, of course, because much experimentation had proven that Morgana's talents ran exactly the opposite of what was expect of a 'proper' wife. They joined Balinor and Hunith, already seated and eating at the table waiting for them; it took some getting used to, but Merlin and Morgana were adamant that there were no such thing as propriety in their home. As good as Morgana's table manners still were, she would not abide by her family being bound by even part of the conventions she'd always loathed.

Very quickly after they are all settled, the last third of the Pendragons arrived.

Morgause swept into the room, having for once shed her burgundy gown for deep blue, bringing with her a tall young man who a closer glance revealed to be none other than Mordred. He was immediately swamped by Gaia and Ygraine, who plainly worshipped the ground the shy teenager walked on. Morgause watched with proud eyes as Mordred began to regale them, with tales of their victories over the mad traitor Alvarr and the cowardly king Cenred. Leaving him too it, she took her seat with the rest of the family, and gratefully accepted the wine Arthur passed her.

"It is lovely to see you all again." She said with a true smile. "I have missed these dinners, these past winter nights."

Gwen's mouth twisted wryly. "Really? Sometimes they can get quite heated."

"And they are joyous all the same, my sister." Morgause responded genuinely, cursory eyes once again appreciating the perfectly round table they were gathered around; there was no head of this family.

And as the night went on… as Arthur and Gwen and Morgause and Mordred debated their respective positions, and discussed the brewing hostility between their peoples (despite calls for peace at long last)… it became clear what path Merlin and Morgana had followed to guide the future into its Golden Age. If destiny wanted to keep them locked apart on opposite sides of Camelot's war, then the only way out for them was to be on _both_ sides.

While Arthur fought for the protection of those who could not defend themselves against magic, and Morgause fought for those who had oppressed far too long, Merlin and Morgana fought to keep both sides remembering that they were each other's family. There would be no war, not at their hands at least. Not because they _couldn't_ wage one; but because, every month, they were forcefully called down to their sister's home for a family dinner with each other's children. And bit by bit over the years, the scars and the politics bled away, and the siblings inched closer to forgiveness, and understanding.

Arthur clapped Merlin on the back with a genuine smile, as the guests moved to begin the journey home, and Gwen pecked him on the cheek happily.

They're not the only ones who had found redemption.

###

Gaia sat at the table, staring distantly at some leftover pheasant, as her parents began floating the dishes away. They gave each other significant looks, knowing something was wrong, but waiting for their tight-lipped daughter to inevitably open up on her own. At last, Gaia looked up and;

"Who will I marry?"

After a beat, Morgana tossed a significant look Merlin's way, as if to say 'let me handle this', and slid gracefully into the chair across from her daughter. "Where has this come from, all of a sudden?"

Gaia fiddled with her digits in a very Merlin way. "It's just…" she bit her lip. "Mordred has that Druid woman of his, whatever her name is, the one who help you cure poor Freya? A-and Ygraine is going on and on about this boy in the lower quarter who isn't afraid of her sword skills, and…"

"…and you wonder when you will meet someone?" Morgana said, empathetically. The little girl looked away sharply, brushing away the stray tears that had suddenly come.

"I'm being dumb, I know."

Morgana took her daughters hand. "_Never,_ Morgaia." She said with conviction, forcing the child to look her in the eye. "I worried about the same thing when I was your age."

"As did I." Merlin chimed in, plopping down in the chair on Gaia's other side. "Everybody wonders if they'll find somebody, even children."

Gaia looked down and swallowed, playing with a fork nervously. "I don't know, it just seems like… everybody is getting together except Aunt Morgause and I; but she _did_ have a husband, and he died, and…"

"...and you wonder if it's even worth it?" Morgana finished for her. Gaia looked up and nodded profusely.

"She seems so _sad,_ Mama, even when she's happy." Merlin and Morgana exchanged looks. "And I see how content everybody is when they're in love, but won't they be sad like her one day? Won't it hurt, if you ever… ever lost the other person?"

Morgana drew back, swallowing. Merlin met her eyes and nodded quietly, accepting the torch she was passing to him for the moment. Gently, he shifted so that he could kneel in front of his daughter, taking both her hands in his.

"Love _does_ hurt, Gaia, quite a bit…" He said with a bittersweet smile. "Whether you've lost someone or your worrying about never finding anyone, it hurts a lot. And sometimes, it feels like… like it can eat you whole."

Gaia's eyes widened, and Merlin rushed to finish.

"But that doesn't mean love's not worth it, honey. Because, even when it hurts, you're filled up with so much light… you feel like you could _burst!_" His eyes strayed for a moment to sparkle at his wife. "If you asked you're aunt, she would tell you the same thing we are; that even when it makes you sad, loving somebody… it's the most fulfilling thing you can do with your life."

Morgana came around to kneel by his side, as he freed one of his daughter's hands for her to take.

"Because love is like _fire,_ Morgaia." She said warmly, catching Merlin's look with a grin. "It may be able to burn you alive… _but_; it can also light the very deepest dark. And if you try really, _really_ hard, then together the both of you can make sure that it only brings warmth."

Gaia smiled imperceptibly. "Is that what you guys did for each other?"

Merlin and Morgana looked at each other again, happily losing themselves in each other's eyes.

"Yes." They said, with the biggest smiles Gaia had ever seen on their faces. Tearfully, the little girl threw her arms around both her parents' necks.

"I love you, Mama, Papa," She whispered into their embrace, "and I promise, I'm gonna go dismantle that egg trap in your bedroom _right now."_

"Yes, please do." Morgana laughed, holding her family tighter.

Because this was it. After so many years of wondering how to make the world a better place, having tried violence and scheming, the Lady Morgana had finally found the only thing that truly made anyone equal, the kindle for the Golden Age's fire.

Family.

###

When their lips reluctantly parted, and their eyes fluttered open, dawn has risen in their little grove; the only thing louder than the birds was the sound of the water rushing around their waists-

Wait, water?

"…Did you do this, darling?" Merlin laughed, directing her radiant face to look behind them, at the familiar cliff base they had somehow transported themselves to. They were sitting naked, entwined together in the river near to the shore; close enough to feel the spray from the waterfall.

Morgana laughed in the morning light. "It seems we still have a way of making our combined magic do things we didn't tell it too."

"Oh, I am _not_ complaining." Merlin replied, resting his face against her collar bone. "That was… that was real, wasn't it?"

Morgana ran her fingers through his hair, smiling against his crown as she kissed it. "Everything we Saw was real, Merlin… but not set in stone." He pulled back to meet her eyes, drinking in her awed perusal of his face. "We will have to work, very hard, to bring it to life."

Merlin touched foreheads with his wife briefly, before looking away to see the empty spot of earth where their wondrous house will be.

Where their daughter would live, just waiting to be loved.

Merlin turned back to her with a sly smile.

"I suppose we better get to work, then."

With a splash and a laugh, they tumbled together into the water, towards the shore.

Towards tomorrow.

###

**Nearly five months ago to the day, I finally gathered up my courage and wrote something. To be honest, I used to love writing, even if I didn't think I was very good at it. But somewhere along the way, life screwed things up as it does and before I knew it, I had stopped doing something I loved all together. On a whim, driven by my being explosively angry about the route the show's gone, I finally actually put pen to paper again. Or, um, fingers to keys. :/ Worse than that, I even took the plunge and threw up my little one-shot on the worldwide web, pretty much just because. To my intense shock, people liked it; and I didn't want to stop. Almost half a year of my life later, I've gotten to the point where I'm now writing again constantly. **

**The point of this story, is twofold.**

**One: Thank you. All of you, every single one of you who's donated to my review page, or shown up on my hit counter, **_**thank you.**_** I can tell you right now, 'Throw Out the Script' wouldn't have continued past the first installment if it weren't for each and every one of you and your incredible support. I am no less blown away now than I was the day I got up in the morning to find 12 review alerts, it is… absolutely **_**flooring.**_** I wouldn't have gotten back **_**in**_** to writing if it weren't for you guys, and it means the world to me.**

**Two: I know there are a lot of would-be writers frequenting the site, trying to muster up the courage to post something, or even **_**write**_** something. Take it from me; **_**just go for it.**_** It doesn't have to perfect, it doesn't have to be good. Hell, it doesn't even have to be decent; but if it's what you love, then get writing! Don't do it for the reviews, do it just because you **_**want**_** to. And the more you do it, the better you get, the more aware of your pros and cons you'll be. Honestly, writing 37 chapters of this has taught me more about the writing process than any class ever could.**

**And now, it's finally over. Not gonna lie, it'll be weird not having this to work on. I know it wasn't perfect; I know it could be inflated, over-the-top, convoluted, ect. Those are those cons I was talking about, and while I haven't done such a good job of tamping them down, I promise I'll keep trying. And I know, also, that despite those things (maybe even because of them) this was the most damn fun I've ever had with a keyboard. And I hope it was for you too.**

**Oh no, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry… ;_;**

***sniff* So, there it is! Again, thank you, all of you. I've met some crazy awesome people through this story, and all of you deserve the shout outs I just don't have the space to give; if only there weren't so damn many of you! XD I know I haven't always been able to get back to each and every one of you, but I really do appreciate every little thumbs up. You are total stars, all of you, and I hope to see more of you in… whatever the hell else I write!**

**Super Special Thanks goes to the one and only Aly G, without whom **_**this**_** house of cards would have collapsed months ago. Go look her up already, she's got some of best damn Mergana on the net, and she deserves your attention WAY more than I ever could. Aly, if I had TARDIS, I would totally go back and dedicate all of Script to you. You're **_**amazing,**_** girlfriend, don't ever believe anything less. {:)**

**Wow, an entire page's worth of A/N? Way to go, self. Anyway, thanks for sticking with me, all of you; and let's hope season four doesn't screw us **_**too **_**hard. **

**Go gettem, Merganites! b(^_^)d**


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